


The Cheating Ring

by megastarstrike



Series: Someone I Call Home [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Academic Cheating, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Character Development, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of neglect, References to Canon, Slice of Life, Trust Issues, but also fuck canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-05 23:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megastarstrike/pseuds/megastarstrike
Summary: Tsumugi Shirogane isn't a person. Her role in life is to play the side character, only observing the protagonists passively. It was a life she was content with. At least, that's what she told herself.Rantarou Amami holds much of his values in his family. That would be fine had he not been floating aimlessly, wondering what he truly wanted to do with his life when he had spent all his time answering that for twelve other people.Miu Iruma is a young inventor, nothing more, nothing less. Who is she, if not an inventor? Is she even an inventor? She isn't sure she wants to find out.Kokichi Ouma describes himself as an enigma and intends to keep it that way. No one could hurt him if he stayed wrapped in his cocoon of lies. It was better this way, safer, more fun. But he knew he was lying even to himself.Four people, four identities, four secrets, four lives, all about to be connected in ways none of them could have ever predicted.__________“A true friend is someone who will always love you—the imperfect, the confused, the wrong you—because that is what people are supposed to do.”





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> "In the beginning, it was all black and white."

Tsumugi swore she was a good student. She had to be, as the student council president and notorious teacher’s pet. But sometimes, life got in the way. Sometimes, you just can’t fit in the time to study for a language arts test into your schedule of catching up on the latest season of your favorite anime. Sometimes, you wished that you could just teleport yourself into a manga and live out a fictional life instead of this boring reality.

 

But being a cosplayer helped.

 

Tsumugi furrowed her eyebrows as she marked patches of white fabric with phonetic Japanese characters in black marker, sewing them onto her traditional dress to form full words spelling whatever was written on Sparknotes. Her gaze switched from her phone to the marker to the needle until she sewed the last patch on.

 

The original pink fabric of the dress shimmered under the school’s fluorescent lights. The black string was woven tightly into the white fabric, all of which happened to be on places she could see easily without rousing suspicion from the teacher (though the teacher was probably the densest she had ever seen. She could recall an incident where a short student with purple hair started a paper ball fight without the teacher noticing).

 

Ding! Ding! The bell signaled the beginning of class.

 

Tsumugi stood up and smoothed out her dress before rushing to pack up her sewing kit. She turned, only to be faced with three students staring at her.

 

Fuck. They were Japanese.

 

Then, as if they had all come to a silent agreement, the other three nodded and turned to go to class.

 

Tsumugi let out a sigh of relief as she continued to pack up. She wasn’t caught just yet.

 

*

 

Kokichi knew he could be an honest straight A student without cheating, but where was the fun in that? If they left a vulnerability in the system, why shouldn’t he take advantage of it? It was his duty as a self-proclaimed liar.

 

Kokichi balled up a cheat sheet he had made prior to entering his geography class and tossed it in the garbage can as he walked in. He took his place at his desk and waited for the show to start.

 

As expected, the teacher read out the instructions and passed out the blank maps the students were supposed to label from memory.

 

Kokichi leaned back and waited for the ten minute mark before bursting into tears and crumpling up his map, tossing it into the same trash can he had thrown the cheat sheet in.

 

The teacher looked up from her computer. “Ouma, what do you think you’re doing?”

 

Kokichi turned to face her with wide, shining eyes and a whimper. “I-I just can’t do it! I know I’m going to fail this class, I’m going to fail at everything I’ll ever accomplish, but I just don’t know this! I-I’m such a d-disappointment!” He burst into another round of tears.

 

“Well, it’s better to turn in something than nothing, right? Get it out of the trash can.”

 

“R-Right. Thank you.” With that, Kokichi dove into the trash can and grabbed both his map and the cheat sheet. He turned around to return to his desk, only to be met with the knowing smirks of three people.

 

Fuck. He didn’t anticipate this.

 

His heart clenched in terror. He had drawn every possibility out on his whiteboard, but he couldn’t predict another student? How stupid was he?

 

The trio only winked at him before returning to their work, clearly smug that they had caught a cheater.

 

… Hey, wasn’t that blue-haired one the same cheater he had caught the day before?

 

But no matter. Kokichi returned to his desk and copied down the answers on the map. He looked over his paper, pretending to be thinking hard, before turning in his paper at the end of the period.

 

He glanced back at the trio with a smirk.

 

Maybe this could be fun.

 

*

 

Foreign language was actual bullshit, especially for a genius like Miu. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t care for the class; It was the education system’s fault for making her learn a foreign language when she was clearly trying to go for the engineering pathway. Hell, she didn’t even need the pathway, the pathway needed  _her._

 

… Right?

 

The more she thought about it, the more sense it made to learn other languages as an inventor, but there was no place for logic at a time like this.

 

Miu feverishly scribbled down vocabulary and conjugation charts on a sheet of paper and tore them apart into two pieces. She stuck a piece of tape on both sheets before sticking them to the inside of her cleavage.

 

… That should work. Teachers were too awkward to actually call her out, right?

 

But apparently three people weren’t. The three people stared back at her, one smirking, another in awe, and the other mildly horrified.

 

Miu froze.  _Wait… Didn’t I catch two of those fuckers cheating? Y’all can’t do shit to me!_

 

She deflected their stares with a flick of the middle finger before entering class just as the bell rang.

 

*

 

When in doubt, write on your nails in black pen and cover it with clear nail polish so you’re prepared for your math test. Sure, Rantarou wasn’t quite setting up a good example for his sisters, but completely bombing a test wasn’t setting up a good example either.

 

Rantarou gently blew on his nails before applying the clear nail polish.

 

To any outsider observing him from the other tables in the cafeteria, it would only look as if he was painting his nails. Unfortunately, the three people watching him weren’t outsiders.

 

Rantarou looked up and flashed each of them a smile that carried a threatening message:

 

_If you tell, I’ll tell._

 

The unholy trio of cheaters looked away, mumbling to themselves.

 

Rantarou smirked as he waved his hands in the air.

 

Mission accomplished.

 

*

 

Three people sat around a circle table in the library, waiting for their meeting to start.

 

A fourth person addressed them after looking around for any outsiders. “Welcome! You’re probably wondering why I brought you here today.”

 

“Just get the hell on with it,” a girl with curly, blonde hair said, “I’ve got a robotics meeting straight after this.”

 

“I have an anime club meeting as well,” the other girl added, her gaze focusing on the ripped seams of her dress.

 

The other boy didn’t speak. His eyes were trained on his nails, undoubtedly thinking of how hard it would be to wash off the ink.

 

The boy with the messy purple hair smirked and held a finger against his lips. “Don’t worry about that. We’re all dirty cheaters, after all. Aren’t we?”

 

“W-What?” The blonde girl recoiled with wide eyes. “What do you mean? The great Miu Iruma doesn’t cheat on any subjects!”

 

“As the student council president, I can’t exactly do anything against the school rules either,” the other girl said with a frown.

 

The third boy, again, didn’t speak, knowing that everyone could see the evidence on his hands.

 

“You always bring up that student council president thing. Aren’t politicians corrupt anyway?” The purple-haired boy stood up, pointing a finger at each person. “You stuck a cheat sheet in between your boobs, you painted math formulas on your nails, and you actually sewed Japanese characters into your dress. Imagine if the teacher knew more than two languages. How much trouble would you have gotten into?”

 

“It’s not like you’re fully innocent either,” the girl mumbled, fiddling with her thick, black glasses. “Aren’t you the one who put on that little show in geography?”

 

The boy grinned. “Yup! That’s me! Anyway, I have a proposal for you all. Since we’re all cheaters, how about we help each other cheat?”

 

The other boy finally spoke up. “Are you proposing an alliance?”

 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It would only benefit us, right?” the purple-haired boy started. “I mean, we’re all proficient in different subjects: you in geography, the rude blonde idiot in math and science, the other girl in foreign language, and me in language arts.” He grinned, ignoring the blonde girl’s sputters. “So, what do you say?”

 

A silence passed before the green-haired boy smiled and greeted them with a wave. “In that case, I’m Rantarou Amami. I know it’s kind of weird to just out myself in a cheating ring, but I promise I’m not a bad guy.”

 

“You think you’re some hot shit or something just because you introduced yourself first? No way, pussy boy!” The blonde girl stood up and pointed a thumb at herself. “The name’s Miu Iruma. Remember it or you’ll regret it!”

 

“You don’t have to be so aggressive about it,” the other girl mumbled. She stood up, ignoring Miu’s hiss of displeasure. “I don’t know why you would want someone as plain as me on your team, but I’m Tsumugi Shirogane.”

 

The final person’s grin only grew wider. “And I’m Kokichi Ouma. Nishishi! This is gonna be a fun yea—”

 

“Wait just a second,” Tsumugi said, her glasses glinting in the light. “I’ll only join this gang on one condition.”

 

“It’s not even a gang, but keep going.”

 

“Since we’re all Japanese, we should address each other by our honorifics.” Tsumugi’s face brightened. “It’s just like in those slice of life animes! We’re all even wearing uniforms!”

 

“Alright, Shirogane- _chan_ ,” Kokichi snickered, reveling in the glare she sent him.

 

“Your idea,  _Shitty_ gane,” Miu cackled.

 

Rantarou smiled and offered her a “That’ll be fine, Shirogane-san,” but she was far too angry to be appealed to.

 

“You guys are the rudest…” Tsumugi trailed off, grumbling under her breath.

 

“I get that we’re happy this team assembled,” Rantarou began, “But what are we going to do about homework and classwork? Won’t it be a bit suspicious if we get high grades on tests but not on regular assignments?”

 

Kokichi paused for a moment before saying, “Then we’ll meet in the commons every day before school. Our classes start at 7:10, so meet me at 6:30.”

 

“We can’t just meet after school?”

 

“Don’t you recall everyone complaining about having to go to clubs afterwards?”

 

Miu’s eyes widened when she looked at the clock. “Oh, shit! I gotta go!” She rushed out of the room with Tsumugi and Rantarou in tow, all three separating into different directions.

 

Kokichi laughed at their hurry before realizing he had a club today as well and sprinting down the hallways as fast as his feet could take him.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe you actually made us come here at the ass crack of dawn,” Miu said, rubbing her eyes. “Just give me the math homework. I’ll do it for all your sorry asses.”

 

Rantarou passed her his homework before saying, “You can pass me your geography homework, too.” He blinked at the flood of papers coming his way and yawned. “It’s way too early for this.”

 

“There wasn’t any foreign language homework, right?” Tsumugi asked, still blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

 

“Of course there wasn’t,” Kokichi said. He rolled his eyes and shoved another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I don’t understand why you guys are so sleepy. It’s only a little bit less sleep.”

 

Tsumugi wrinkled her nose. “Excuse me, but what are you eating?”

 

“Skittle cereal.”

 

“Skittles made a cereal?”

 

“Nope. I just poured a bunch of skittles into a bowl of Panta. It’s actually pretty good.” Kokichi grinned and held out a spoon. “Wanna try it?”

 

The only response was Miu grabbing his bowl and tossing it into the nearest trash can.

 

“You’re so cold, Iruma-chan,” Kokichi whined. He huffed and took out a pencil. “Fine. I see how it is. By the way, there’s a language arts test today on Carl Marx’s  _Communist Manifesto._ ”

 

“Wait, really?”

 

“No. You’re so gullible,” Kokichi scolded, waving his finger. “But we do have a test on  _The Great Gatsby._ You know, the thing we were supposed to be reading since the beginning of the school year?”

 

Miu leaned back in her chair, smacking her gum. “Man, I gave up reading that thing a long time ago. All the characters are little shits.”

 

“That’s not the point. I have a plan.”

 

The other three leaned in.

 

Kokichi’s eyes danced as he explained his plan in detail, waving his hands with each word and taking dramatic pauses wherever he felt so.

 

Miu paused before scoffing and rolling her eyes. “There’s no way in hell that shit’s gonna work.”

 

“Actually, the teacher has proven herself to be a very oblivious person,” Tsumugi said, pointing a finger up. “Wasn’t there that one snowball fight with our papers a few weeks ago? She didn’t even look up.”

 

“Eh, I still feel kinda iffy about it. I mean, we don’t have privacy folders or anything. It’s just all out in the open.”

 

“Oh my, is Iruma-chan  _afraid_ of getting caught?” Kokichi sneered.

 

“Picture it this way, you little brat. If we get caught, we’re barred from college. I don’t know about you, but geniuses like me actually want an education.”

 

“I’m not so sure about the genius part.” Kokichi smiled as Miu fought to defend herself.  “The school is full of cheaters anyway, so there’s no chance of an outsider doing anything. If we get in trouble, you can all just blame me. That’ll take the heat off you for a little bit. Besides, I’m the leader of this whole operation. I have to take the blame for something.”

 

“Can we take a revote on the leader?” Rantarou asked. He chuckled when Tsumugi and Miu joined in his protest.

 

“You guys are so mean!” Kokichi wailed, tears threatening to spill down his face. “I try to do one nice thing, and you just throw it back in my face!”

 

The other three continued laughing.

 

*

 

“Cuntma, this is a dumbass plan,” Miu hissed.

 

Kokichi only shrugged in response as the quartet entered the language arts classroom.

 

Their teacher sat at her desk with the stack of test papers beside her. The tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate the other students, who took their seats before frantically going over their book. The usual buzz of chatter before class started was gone.

 

Miu, Tsumugi, and Rantarou sat in the back row while Kokichi sat in his usual spot in the front row. Kokichi flashed them a quick salute before facing away from them.

 

The bell rang, signaling the end of the transition period.

 

The teacher stood up with the stack of test papers. She explained the directions before passing them out one by one. She returned to her desk afterwards, keeping her eyes glued onto the laptop.

 

Kokichi smirked as he held his pencil between his fingers.  _Showtime!_

 

He barreled through the test in twenty minutes, only pausing to check over his answers. He stuck the scantron into his pocket, leaving only a little corner sticking out, before standing up and making his way to the pencil sharpener in the back of the room.

 

Kokichi stuck his pencil in the pencil sharpener and tapped his foot against Miu’s chair.

 

Miu reached back and felt around hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure if the entire plan was a prank or not. The tips of her fingers clamped down on the corner of the scantron, and she pulled it back to her desk. Her hand zipped across the page as she copied the answers down. She returned the scantron to his pocket and passed her own down to Tsumugi.

 

Tsumugi checked through the work before passing her own scantron to Rantarou and passing Miu’s scantron back to her.

 

Kokichi almost scoffed. He couldn’t be  _that_ untrustworthy, right? He dropped off his scantron to the turn-in box and returned to his seat.

 

Around thirty minutes later, Tsumugi stood up to turn her test in. She sat back down with a passive, unrevealing face.

 

Rantarou did the same thing five minutes later, and Miu went five minutes after him.

 

Just a few minutes later, the bell rang. The remaining students groaned and turned in whatever they had.

 

The quartet left the room in silence.

 

*

 

 **GreatestInventor:** Wow I cant believe that shit actually fucking worked

 **PantaLord:** See Iruma-chan? You should have more faith in me sometimes!!!!

 **Avocado:** if you were a religion no one would be following you

 **PantaLord:** thanks

 **SHSLCosplayer:** But still… That was pretty much the only A I got in that class.

 **PantaLord:** HUH?? But weren’t you supposed to be the one who took one for the team?

 **GreatestInventor:** that was me dumbass

 **Avocado:** GUYS MY GRADE WENT UP 2 POINTS

 **GreatestInventor:** who gives a fuck about your grades?

 **Avocado:** rude

 **PantaLord:** sooooo? Are you guys willing to work with me now?

 **SHSLCosplayer:** I don’t see why not.

 **Avocado:** I do

 **Avocado:** but whatever

 **Avocado:** sure i’ll join your cult or whatever

 **PantaLord:** ITS NOT A CULT

 **GreatestInventor:** yeah just keep telling yourself that

 **GreatestInventor:** but you guys probably need my help so i’ll join in

 **PantaLord:** yay~!! Have a good weekend!! <3

 **GreatestInventor:** fuck off

 

*

 

The park was supposed to be a peaceful, innocent place, somewhere Miu could gather ideas for her next invention. The wind blew gently against the trees, and the children laughed as they played on the swings. There wasn’t a moment of silence in the park.

 

But there was one thing wrong with this scene, and it was the purple gremlin climbing his way to the top of the statue of a globe.

 

_Wait… Is that Ouma?_

 

Miu walked to the base of the statue and shouted, “Hey, little fucker, get down here!”

 

The aforementioned little fucker dropped down next to her in a split second and faced her with an innocent smile like he hadn’t just been vandalizing the park’s property. “Hey, Iruma-chan! What are you doing in the park?”

 

“I should be asking you that, seeing as how you’re just fucking up the entire place.” She took a closer look at the globe, only to see that the top part of it was green instead of the usual stone gray. “Is that spray paint? Where were you going with that?”

 

“It’s art, Iruma-chan,” Kokichi replied, holding one finger up as if he were lecturing her. “I’m not surprised a rude blonde bitch like you doesn’t know what it is. Here, I’ll look it up for you.”

 

“Making a fucking Shrek statue isn’t art.”

 

Kokichi’s hands tensed before he let out a sigh. “Aw… Iruma-chan caught me after all. Yes, I’m transforming the globe into a picture of Shrek’s face.”

 

“Why though?”

 

He only answered with a shrug.

 

Miu paused and assessed her choices. First, she could tell Kokichi off and chase him away from the park. However, she wasn’t really in the mood for physical activity, nor was she fully equipped for it with her heels. Her next choice would be to walk away and ignore him. That was probably the better option, but she picked a third choice she hadn’t considered before.

 

“Give me that shit,” Miu hissed, snatching a spray can off Kokichi’s belt. “If you’re gonna make it a Shrek statue, you gotta go all the fucking way, you shitty virgin. Make the outline first with a darker color and fill in the green later. They taught you this shit in kindergarten.”

 

Kokichi stared at her in silence for a moment before his face split into a wide grin. “Perfect! You’ll be a great accomplice! But do you know how to use a spray can?”

 

Miu scoffed. “Of course, I do. I’m a fucking genius.

 

“Alright. Use it right now.”

 

“I don’t need to prove myself to you.” She scowled at his knowing grin. “Fine! I’ll fucking do it, just you watch.” She pointed the spray can at the statue, only to have nothing come out.

 

“You do realize there was a cap on it, right?” Kokichi snickered before uncapping it. “You were too busy pretending to be this almighty genius to see it.”

 

“Pretending? Say that to my face, asshole!”

 

Kokichi’s grin grew wider, and he leaned in. “You’re pretending. I know a liar when I see one. Now, who are you lying to? Me or yourself?”

 

“What’s the point of this? I know I’m not lying.”

 

“What’s your evidence?”

 

“This is a typical, everyday conversation between a beautiful genius and a little shit that needs to shut up. Why would I need evidence?”

 

“You always need evidence to back up your claim. We’ve learned that in language arts since day one,” Kokichi said. “But then again, I didn’t think a dumb blonde idiot like you would get it.”

 

“I-I’m not dumb!”

 

Kokichi grinned and pointed at her. “There it is!”

 

“What, you asshole?”

 

“Your weak point. You don’t care if I insult you any other way. You only ever care if it’s about your intelligence, which you clearly don’t have a lot of.”

 

Miu opened her mouth to defend herself before realizing her efforts were futile. “Fine, fine, whatever. Let’s just assume that your wild ass claim is right. What’s the point of it? To waste time? To get me in trouble with you for painting this god awful statue? Some kinda cover-up for your own shitty insecurities?”

 

Kokichi hesitated, and that’s when Miu knew she was on the right track.

 

“That’s a genius plan!” Kokichi said. “Making up assumptions when you can’t think for yourself.”

 

Miu scowled. “Stop lying, you fucking abortion.”

 

“What? I would  _never_ lie to you. I absolutely hate liars.”

 

“ _You’re_ a liar, you fucking—Wait…” Miu furrowed her eyebrows. “If you hate liars and you’re a liar, wouldn’t that mean you hated yourself?”

 

It was such a simple conclusion yet such an important one, and they both knew it.

 

“Now, why the fuck would you hate yourself?” Miu asked, pointing a finger at him, her anger replaced with curiosity. “Aren’t you the one defending lying to hell and back?”

 

“You’re stepping into dangerous territory, Iruma-chan,” Kokichi giggled, his eyes narrowing into slits and his grin climbing so far up his face it held a purple sheen. “I wouldn’t keep going if I were you.”

 

Miu leaned back, her own eyes narrowing in disgust as spit dripped down her mouth. “Jesus fuck, that’s a creepy face.”

 

His expression vanished just as quickly as it came. “I know, right? I’ve been perfecting it since the day I was born. Fitting for a supreme leader, isn’t it?”

 

“Supreme leader of what? This stupid ass cheating ring?”

 

“Supreme leader of DICE, this super evil organization with over ten thousand members,” Kokichi said, his eyes sparkling. “We’re the most powerful organization in the world! We control everything from the yakuza to world governments. I can make one phone call, and the entire world would be changed.”

 

Miu gritted her teeth. Even if Kokichi was a better liar than the next best liar she knew and had around for all her life, she had grown enough to know that both of them were using the same technique to get the same results. “Are you trying to get me to be afraid of you or something? That’s a load of bullshit.”

 

Miu continued even as Kokichi hummed and scrutinized the statue in an effort to block her out.

 

“I mean, we’re in a fucking cheating ring, for fuck’s sake. The entire thing kind of depends on us all trusting that we won’t snitch on each other. If you keep lying, we won’t trust you. That’s what you want, right? I just don’t get why.”

 

“Well, you know what they say.” Kokichi looked up with a careless smile. “Birds of a feather flock together.”

 

“Are you seriously still trying to accuse the great Miu Iruma of lying?”

 

“Every word you say just keeps supporting my case, you know.”

 

“Shut the fuck up!”

 

The two continued squabbling until they realized their time was running short.

 

Kokichi finished their argument with a scoff. “Whatever. We have a statue to paint, don’t we?” He gave her a patronizing smile and slowed his speech. “Now, Iruma-chan, are you sure you removed the cap this time?”

 

Miu’s face burned. “Fuck you! I’ll fucking show you, you little brat!” She aimed the can at the statue and began to paint.

 

They spent the afternoon painting Shrek’s face onto the world statue before being chased out of the park by angry parents and later being detained by police. But when Kokichi turned to her and laughed a congratulations, Miu couldn’t help but feel like she was at least a bit cared for.

 

When she was escorted home after being released, the loneliness had returned to haunt her. She flicked the lights on, revealing the ghost town she called home. She had returned to an empty kitchen, an empty dining room, an empty living room, and eventually an empty bedroom. Hell, even she felt empty whenever she stepped into her house. What was even the point of living here?

 

But she had another few years to think about that. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

 

Miu collapsed into her chair and hunched over her desk, her thoughts returning to the conversation from earlier. Was she really lying to herself? Was her intelligence faked?

 

She scowled and knocked her backpack away with her foot.

 

No, she was sure that her intelligence wasn’t faked. She was absolutely certain that being an inventor would always be a central part of her identity. But being a  _confident_ inventor…?

 

Well, she wasn’t so sure about that.

 

Miu took a sticky note off her desk and scribbled a single question onto it before slapping it on her wall:

 

_What is intelligence?_

 

On the other side of town, Kokichi returned to an equally empty house. He rubbed his eyes as he navigated through the darkness of his home, not bothering to flip the lights on. He grabbed the handlebar of his bedroom door and pushed it open. The lights flickered on, and he cringed at the state of his room.

 

His room was the only place he could call home, but that wasn’t accurate. It was more like an office with the way several whiteboards were pinned to the walls, scribbles and doodles drawn on them in black marker. Papers were scattered around the floor. The succulents he had tried to grow had withered away on the windowsill (he was then reminded of the emptiness of the room without another living being in it, but he brushed it off). A clothes pile was starting to form on a wooden chair. He had lied to himself and told himself he would clean it up later, but two weeks had passed without any of his belongings moving an inch.

 

But that could wait a little bit longer.

 

Kokichi plopped down in front of his whiteboard and bit his thumb, staring at the paper cutouts of his group that he had made earlier. Three circles were drawn with different words labeling them: Friend, Ally, and Distrusted. All three paper cutouts were in the Distrusted circle, and he had no intention of changing that anytime soon.

 

But his discussion with Miu had been interesting, to say the least. Even though Miu had just thrown accusations at him until something stuck, she had connected the dots better than he had expected her to. No, better than he had  _wanted_ her to.

 

That was something Kokichi had to respect, even if they were both liars.

 

He paused before moving Miu’s cutout closer to the Ally circle but kept her halfway inside the Distrusted circle. He uncapped his marker and wrote a single question underneath her cutout:

 

_Can I trust you?_

 

*

 

Rantarou loved his sisters, he really did. That’s why he didn’t hesitate to pack a sleeping bag and a bag of everything he would need to spend the night at another place when his sisters asked him to leave so they could have a sleepover with their school friends.

 

And now that he was in the dark and cold, he didn’t quite know what he was thinking. Was he really willing to freeze to death for the sake of his siblings?

 

Their house had a backyard, but it only consisted of trees and forest. There was no way he would be able to sleep there without having a bug crawl up his ear or something just as horrifying. He couldn’t go back into the house either; He was a man of his word. Checking into a hotel was out of the question, since he had left without his credit card and didn’t have enough money to check one out for the night. Calling a friend was the only option.

 

Rantarou took out his phone. His finger froze above the long abandoned folder of apps titled “Self-Care” before he scrolled through his contacts.

 

_Amnesty International president… Library Club partner… Math study group… Tsumugi Shirogane._

 

His thumb hovered over Tsumugi’s contact.

 

While he  _was_ involved in the cheating ring with her, he didn’t actually know her that well, much less whether or not she would be willing to take him in for the night. But nobody else fit the criteria for a responsible person that could somewhat tolerate him.

 

He clicked on her contact and held the phone up to his ear.

 

“... Hello? What do you want from me this late at night, you normie?”

 

 _Normie? What does that even mean?_ “Hi, Shirogane-san,” Rantarou began, his smile slipping at her words. “I… kinda need a place to stay for the night.

 

Her response was immediate. “Wait, what happened? Did you get kicked out of your family? Did you get into a fight with them?”

 

“No, no, not anything like that, nothing bad. It’s hard to explain, so can I just come over?”

 

“... Fine. I’ll text you my address.”

 

Rantarou input the address into his GPS and drove to her house.

 

Tsumugi answered the door before he could knock. “Are you okay? Do you need emotional support? Because I’m really not good at that, even with a normie like you.”

 

“Why do you keep calling me that? And yeah, I’m fine. I just needed a place to stay for one night.”

 

“Why?”

 

Rantarou chose his words carefully. “So you know how I have twelve sisters, right?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“And they all go to public schools, so they made friends there.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“All twelve of them wanted to have a sleepover with their friends in that house, so they told me to get out. They kicked me out of the house for the night, basically.”

 

“So you’re telling me… you got kicked out of your house by a bunch of middle and elementary schoolers?”

 

“In my defense, some of them are really tough,” Rantarou said, holding his palms out. “Two of them are doing martial arts, and another one is in wrestling. It would be kinda hard for me to defend against that.”

 

Tsumugi gave him a weird look but stepped back and allowed him to come in. “Damn normie…”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. Just set your stuff up on the couch and don’t eat anything from the fridge.” Her glare turned sharp. “And especially don’t eat the chocolate ice cream! I’ve been saving that for weeks.”

 

“... Ever heard of freezer burn?”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t care,” Tsumugi said, sitting back down on her couch. “I was watching the fourth episode a new season of a rebooted anime. I know we were supposed to be working on our math project, but I couldn’t help it.”

 

The only sources of light in the house was the light from the kitchen and the television screen. A stack of books had been left out on the table in front of the living room couch, and hairpins were scattered on every surface. Static chatter from whatever was playing on the TV drowned out what would have been silence.

 

The thought alone made him shudder; He couldn’t imagine a completely empty, silent house.

 

Rantarou settled in next to her, covering himself with the blanket he had brought. “Really? What’s it about?”

 

“It’s so good! I really feel like I’m a real person in there when I watch it.” Tsumugi’s eyes sparkled as she explained the synopsis of the story. Her hands waved wildly, almost hitting him at one point. She ended her summary with a dejected frown. “Oh… Sorry for rambling. Was that boring?”

 

“No, it wasn’t boring at all,” Rantarou said, “I might show it to my sisters, actually. It sounds really interesting.”

 

Tsumugi gave him a weird look. “It’s always you and your sisters. What kind of weird fixation do you have with them?”

 

“Weird fixation? I’m just their older brother. Not a good one, but…”

 

“What do you do for them?”

 

“Well…” Rantarou looked up and counted his tasks off on his fingers. “I wash the dishes, do the laundry, help with homework, drive them to places, cook—”

 

“So you’re essentially their parent? What happened to their mom or dad?”

 

“My mom’s always busy with work, and my dad…” His smile tightened. “I don’t want to think about him.”

 

“Do they know how to do these things for themselves?”

 

“The older ones do, but I would rather do it myself. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Better my head on the chopping block than theirs, right?”

 

Tsumugi paused in thought. “What would happen if your schedules conflicted? Like, if you had a club meeting at the same time your sister had a ballet recital or something.”

 

“Drop the club meeting right away. My family’s more important than me.”

 

“Even if you really wanted to go to the meeting more than the recital?”

 

“Well, I don’t want to disappoint them.”

 

“What if you would die if you didn’t go to the meeting?”

 

“My statement still stands.”

 

Tsumugi sighed. “This is exactly why you’re such a normie. You just go with whatever they say without thinking about yourself. Doesn’t that get tiring sometimes?”

 

“I don’t care if there’s nothing in it for me. I like seeing my family happy.”

 

“That’s great and all, but what about yourself? What if you’re starving but one of your sisters is just hungry?”

 

Rantarou’s eyes turned sharp and his voice harsh. “Anything other than helping her is called being selfish, and I’m not interested in it.”

 

“How is looking for happiness yourself selfish in any sense of the word?”

 

“Since you’re apparently the master of humanities, why don’t you tell me?”

 

“I’m trying to help you, you normie! I swear, you people complain too much about meta. At least we try to analyze characters like you.”

 

“Here, let me phrase it in your language. How can you do that when you’ve been trying to analyze me as a character and not as a person?”

 

“How could you tell? What’s the difference?” Tsumugi snorted, gripping her upper arm.

 

“The fact that every person is complex and has their own backstories while characters are just that: characters. Characters can be like people, but people are never characters,” Rantarou said, “If you analyze people like characters, you’re only gonna get a surface-level view on them and you come off as a huge jerk. Why not just enjoy people for who they are?”

 

“Oh, look at me, the normie who refuses to do anything outside what my family wants me to do regardless of my opinion.” Tsumugi scowled and pointed a finger at him. “Does that sound like something a  _person_ wants to do? You keep saying you’re not a character, but you keep acting like one. That’s so contradictory I don’t even know where to begin with that.” She stopped to compose herself. “Every character has a motive, and so does every person. What’s your motive?”

 

Rantarou’s first instinct was to say something about caring for his family, but he held his tongue. Was that really all he wanted to do in life?

 

“I’m not saying that caring for your family is bad. It’s actually really admirable. I’m saying it gets bad when you neglect yourself,” Tsumugi mumbled.

 

“You mentioned that thing about everyone having a motive,” Rantarou said, stretching the pause between each word out. “But what’s  _your_ motive?”

 

“Does someone as plain as me get to have a motive?”

 

“You’re a person, not a character.”

 

“... What do you know, the normie’s right,” Tsumugi said, looking down at her fingers.

 

“And whoever said being plain is a bad thing? Plain doesn’t mean not good.”

 

“Source?”

 

“Plain crackers. Plain bread. Plain biscuits. Different tastes for different people.”

 

“Isn’t plain boring?”

 

“Maybe, but…” Rantarou turned back to the television. “You’re an insightful person, you know. You can figure that out on your own.”

 

Tsumugi replayed the words over and over in her head before grabbing the remote controller.  “So you wouldn’t be opposed to watching the rest of the season?”

 

Rantarou chuckled and leaned back. “Why not, right? It’s fun.”

 

“Who’s your favorite character?”

 

“It’s too early to decide that.”

 

Tsumugi pointed the remote controller at the television screen and began the next episode.

 

It was ten at night when they realized that they had threw away their evening watching a show.

 

Rantarou rubbed his eyes and picked up his phone. “Hold off on the next episode, I just got a text from Ouma-kun. Apparently he needs to be picked up from jail.”

 

“Probably a lie,” Tsumugi scoffed, picking up her phone that had just buzzed. Her eyes widened at the text. “Iruma-san says she needs to be picked up as well. Should we go?”

 

“We don’t have anything better to do, right?”

 

And so they climbed into Rantarou’s car and traveled to the jail, where they picked up Miu and Kokichi. Even after paying the fine and watching Tsumugi scold them, Rantarou couldn’t help but laugh at the little family unit that had formed between them in just a few weeks.

 

Tsumugi returned home with Rantarou, the earlier conversation replaying in her head. She was fully aware that people weren’t characters except herself. Wasn’t someone as plain as her doomed to serve as the side character for all her life? When had she become a  _person_?

 

With all the thoughts rushing through her head, she could only clear up one question from the storm:

 

_Am I a person?_

 

On the other end of the couch, Rantarou kept his eyes focused on the television screen blaring in front of him, but his mind was anything other than focused. Was it really good to be at least a little selfish? He cringed upon remembering the most selfish member of his family but brushed it off. That was obviously the worst experience he had had with a selfish person, but what about the rest of the planet?

 

Now that he thought about it, everyone had to be a little selfish to make it in the world. People frequently competed for jobs with the intention of being the only one to be offered the position. Did that make them bad people?

 

The more Rantarou simplified his thinking, the more apparent one question became:

 

_Is being selfish bad?_

 

*

 

Health class was never fun, especially on a Monday.

 

Kokichi pouted and kicked his legs into the chair in front of him, earning a nasty glare from the person occupying that seat.

 

That person happened to be Miu, who finally whipped around to him with blazing eyes and a raised finger after the fifth kick. “Listen up, you little cuck, quit kicking the back of my damn seat!”

 

“If you didn’t want me to kick it, then you shouldn’t have sat there.”

 

“What kind of dumbass logic is that?”

 

Rantarou, who had been sitting next to Kokichi, laughed and put a book in between them. “Okay, I think that’s enough.”

 

Miu slapped the book away and leaned in closer to argue.

 

“I still can’t believe you got arrested for painting Shrek on a world statue,” Tsumugi muttered, rubbing her eyes as she walked in the class and sat down next to Miu.

  
  
“Hey, we got arrested for making art,” Kokichi said, holding a finger up.

  
  
Miu cackled at the memory. “That was some damn fine art! Looked just like the real thing.”

  
  
“On the other hand,” Rantarou mumbled, “I can’t believe we stayed up until two on a school night. We had to wake up at five.

 

Tsumugi sighed. “Why do we do this to ourselves?”

  
Kokichi downed a can of purple Panta and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “You’re such an amateur, Shirogane-chan. What’s the longest time you’ve gone without sleep?”

  
“A week.”

  
Kokichi gagged on his drink and coughed as he set his can down. “A week?”

  
  
“Yeah. I found this anime with like fifty seasons,” Tsumugi explained without a blink or reconsideration of her life choices. “It was pretty crappy though. Definitely not worth the time.”

  
  
“Then why did you keep watching?”

  
  
“I wanted to analyze the characters. Turns out they were too one-dimensional for me to really get any good subtext on them...” She frowned at Rantarou’s knowing smile.

  
  
They fell silent when the teacher called for their attention with a wave of the hand.

 

She cleared her throat before saying, “We’ll be doing the mile run with your classmates in PE today. I’ll give you a few minutes in here to stretch before we head down to the fields.”

 

Kokichi’s eyes popped wide open.

 

Mile run? Oh,  _hell_ no. Not if he had anything to say about it.

 

So like any high schooler reasonably wishing to miss out on an activity, he stood up, took a deep breath, and ran out of the classroom.

 

The teacher gawked for a moment before yelling, “Ouma! Get back here!”

 

Miu, not being fond of physical activity either, stood up and pointed a thumb at herself. “Don’t worry, Teach! I’ll go get him!” She grabbed both of their backpacks and ran out the door.

 

A few seconds passed before it became clear that she had also ditched.

 

Rantarou sighed and strapped his backpack on his shoulders. “I’ve got it, Miss. No need to strain yourself.” He walked out of the class calmly before breaking into a sprint as soon as he was out of the the room.

 

Tsumugi shook her head and sighed.

 

God damn, those  _fucking idiots._

 

“I’ll definitely get them back,” Tsumugi announced before walking out of class with her own backpack slung over her shoulders. She shut the door behind her and walked down the hall, only to see the other three cackling behind a corner.

 

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Rantarou said in between his laughs.

 

Kokichi hiccuped before saying, “Nishishi! Never doubt your leader, Amami-chan! Nice job following, Iruma-chan.”

 

“Pff, it was nothing,” Miu said, wiping her tears away.

 

Tsumugi joined in the laughter. “Good work, everyone. Excellent teamwork, great follow-ups. I closed the door, too. I think the teacher actually thinks I’m going to get you guys.”

 

“Isn’t that a little mean, taking advantage of your reputation like that?” Kokichi asked, snickering.

 

Tsumugi opened her mouth to say her regrets before realizing that she had none. She smiled. “Maybe, but this is the most fun I’ve had in awhile. It’s like something ripped straight out of a high school anime.”

 

Rantarou glanced down at his watch. “That’s our last class of the day. Wanna go and get ice cream or something?”

 

The other three paused before murmuring their agreements and walking out of the school, savoring their moment of freedom.


	2. Mirrors, Chess, Studying, Zip Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I count my blessings, I count you twice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of neglect

“Free completed language arts homework! Get your free completed homework here!” Kokichi announced as he skipped to his usual table in the commons. His smile flickered at the sheer amount of paper that was pushed towards him, but he accepted them all.

 

Tsumugi, who was swamped with their foreign language homework, greeted him first. “Good morning, Ouma-kun. How was your day?”

 

“I can tell you don’t care, but the one hour I spent awake today was wonderful. Anyway, what are we gonna do about that math test coming up?”

 

Everyone’s gazes shifted to Miu.

 

Miu smirked and took out a pouch of tiny mirrors. “Lucky for you guys, I already plotted everything in advance.”

 

“Wow, that’s a surprise.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Cuckma.” She attached the mirrors onto Rantarou’s bracelet, the side of Tsumugi’s glasses, the top of her own goggles, and Kokichi’s fingernail before taking a crumpled sheet of paper out of her backpack. “I got a cheat sheet right here, but someone needs to go hide it in the ceiling vent at the exact right angle. The door might be locked, though…”

 

“Did you ever think about that _before_ making this entire plan up?” Kokichi asked, scowling. “No, because you only think about your own whore self.”

 

Miu shuddered and passed him the paper. “I-I was just trying to help...”

 

Kokichi looked at her curiously before his eyes lit up in understanding. “I know that, you stupid cum dumpster. I can go pick the lock. Does anyone know the teacher’s routine?”

 

“A lot of people from Amnesty International complain that he’s always late for his first class,” Rantarou said, eyes glued to his homework.

 

“What would a normie know?” Tsumugi grumbled under her breath.

 

“You’re seriously still gonna call me that?”

 

“Great! I’ll send you a picture when it’s done.” Kokichi took a small black case out of his backpack before skipping away.

 

“Finally!” Miu moaned, leaning back in her seat. “Someone finally called me a cum dumpster!”

 

“Ouma-kun carries around a lockpicking kit?” Tsumugi asked, pointedly ignoring Miu.

 

“Honestly, I’m not surprised,” Rantarou said.

 

Miu picked up her buzzing phone and squinted at the screen. “Looks like the little fucker actually did it correctly. Come with me, I’ll teach you how to use it.”

 

The three entered the classroom, where Kokichi screwed the bolts back in place.

 

Miu pointed to a cluster of desks in the back. “You guys have to sit in those exact same spots. When someone raises a middle finger, get in position.” She explained how to position themselves before Kokichi stopped her.

 

“Wait,” Kokichi said, climbing down from the vent. “You guys already know how to do that, right? After all, I’m not the only one cheating for fun here.”

 

A silence passed before Rantarou sighed and plopped down on a desk. “Fine. I guess I was just cheating to see how much I could get away with. Not a very good role model for my siblings, huh?”

 

Tsumugi gulped. “I’ll admit that I was stuck in a rough spot when you guys first caught me, but… I suppose I’ve just been tagging along as well. It’s like a real slice-of-life anime, how could I resist?”

 

“And I’m so smart I didn’t even need to cheat! I was just fucking around with you guys,” Miu added, though it was clear to everyone that it was a lie.

 

“So you guys won’t be completely screwed,” Kokichi mumbled. He raised his head. “But no cheating on actual exams or I’ll track you down and kill you.”

 

“You can’t talk about killing people when you’re that short,” Miu snorted. “What are you, three feet tall?”

 

“I’m 5’1, you ignorant slut.”

 

Just as Miu opened her mouth to respond, a student peeked into the room. “Uh, are you guys in this class?”

 

Kokichi spoke up before anyone else could. “Of course! We were just about to get our backpacks from the commons. Let’s go, guys.” He dragged everyone out of the room and back to the commons, leaving a confused student in his wake.

 

*

 

Students groaned when the bell rang three times, signaling the beginning of their next class. Four students secured their mirrors before taking their seats in their assigned places.

 

The teacher shuffled her papers and explained the directions as she passed out the tests. The other students grumbled and started, slowly bubbling in their answers and scribbling on their scratch paper.

 

Miu’s pencil flew across her paper. Within thirty minutes, she was done. She leaned back in her chair and looked over the answers.

 

Finally, Tsumugi raised the signal and tipped her glasses, albeit reluctantly.

 

Miu and Kokichi, who sat in the row behind her, moved their bodies to shine the mirror in the correct place. Rantarou remained focused on the paper in front of him. A few moments later, Kokichi cursed under his breath and kicked the back of his chair.

 

Rantarou turned around to retort something but stopped upon seeing Tsumugi’s middle finger. He twisted his wrist.

 

Tsumugi stared at the ceiling vent for a few seconds before nodding and scrawling something down on her paper.

 

Everyone assumed their normal positions before Rantarou flashed the signal and twisted his wrist again.

 

The other three moved their mirrors to the correct places and kept them there. It was a strange series of positions: Rantarou’s left wrist contorted into a position that set his arm ablaze with pain, Tsumugi’s glasses half-hanging off her face, Miu craning her head down, and Kokichi’s fingers spread wide apart. The teacher looked up from her computer and gave them a strange look.

 

Alarms rang in their heads, and they all exchanged horrified looks.

 

Once Kokichi sent them a glare, their expressions scattered. Kokichi’s face blanked into a look of disinterest. He kept his eyes down on his desk as his pencil moved across the paper. Miu had taken a similar approach and leaned back in her chair, keeping her head craned down. Rantarou bit his lip and hid his face with his calculator. His thumbs moved as if he were inputting numbers. Tsumugi, however, had taken the exact opposite approach and stared ahead, her expression still terrified. No matter how many dirty looks were sent her way, she remained frozen. After a few minutes, they began to hazard glances at the ceiling vent again.

 

Finally, Miu turned her test in, followed by Kokichi, Rantarou, and Tsumugi with a five-minute interval between each person.

 

The bell rang as other students finished up the tests. Just as the four stood up, the teacher called, “Ouma, Iruma, Amami, and Shirogane, see me after class.”

 

They froze, hearts clenched with terror. They met eyes before relaxing their faces and approaching the teacher.

 

“What did you need us for?” Tsumugi asked, twisting her backpack strap. “Can I go? I can’t be late to my next class.”

 

The teacher sighed. “I just wanted to say that you can always resolve your conflicts with words.”

 

“... Excuse me, what?”

 

“You don’t need to resort to sticking middle fingers at each other and making faces at each other if you hate the other person that much,” the teacher continued, “If you have a problem, go to the counselor and remember that I’m here for you. Please just get along.”

 

“We’ll… We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

 

“Alright. You may go.”

 

The four exited the classroom, confused.

 

“Did she… Did she think that we hated each other?” Rantarou finally asked, breaking their silence.

 

“We have a much bigger issue at hand,” Tsumugi said, “What are we going to do about the cheat sheet in the vents?”

 

Kokichi shrugged and took another step forward. “Whatever. We don’t have security cameras at this school. If it gets found, they’ll have no idea who did it or how they got it up there.”

 

Rantarou frowned. “You literally walk around with a lock picking kit. They’ll suspect you first.”

 

“Aww, you guys actually care about me? How sweet.” Kokichi folded his arms behind his head. “But you should know that no one can beat the ultimate liar. Not you, not me, and definitely not the staff.”

 

The others seemed unconvinced and questioned when the conversation had taken a turn for the worst, but they decided to drop it in favor of not being late to their next class.

 

*

 

Tsumugi took a white pawn and moved it two steps forward before reaching over to the other side and moving the black bishop four spaces across. She sent a sharp glare at the kids scrunching their noses at her, prompting them to mutter apologies and look away, but the message they sent was clear.

 

_What’s sadder than playing chess by yourself in the library on the weekend as a high schooler?_

 

“Shirogane-chan?”

 

Tsumugi froze at the familiar voice. She relaxed upon seeing a flash of purple and sighed. “Hi, Ouma-kun.”

 

Kokichi stepped out from the bookshelves. “What are you doing in the library? Were you playing chess by yourself?”

 

“... Yes,” Tsumugi mumbled. “I have to practice for a chess tournament next week. The chess club president promised to meet me here, but I’ve never met him before, so I don’t know what he looks like.”

 

“So you’re playing by yourself?”

 

“I refuse to answer that.”

 

Kokichi stared at her before plopping down in the seat across from her with a grin. “Then I’ll play with you!”

 

“Do you have any experience?”

 

“Nope! I know what all the pieces do, though.”

 

“... Fine,” Tsumugi said. She reset the board before moving a pawn two steps forward. “White moves first and black moves second, in case you didn’t know that already.”

 

Kokichi shrugged and moved his knight.

 

A few moves later, Kokichi took Tsumugi’s bishop with his knight. Tsumugi’s hands tensed, but she said nothing about it.

 

Another moment passed before Kokichi took one of Tsumugi’s pawns. Before she knew it, half her pieces were gone, and she only had a little less than a quarter of Kokichi’s pieces.

 

“I can’t believe I’m getting beat by a fucking normie,” Tsumugi grumbled, her lips pointed down in a glower.

 

Kokichi snickered and said, “Don’t lose hope, Shirogane-chan!”

 

“I should have never shown you that damn video game.”

 

“Too late.” Kokichi finished his statement by setting his queen in place. “Checkmate.”

 

Tsumugi took one look at her fallen king before saying, “Rematch. I want a rematch.”

 

“Fine, fine.” Kokichi leaned forward to reset the board. “Why do you want to win against someone who’s never played chess before? Aren’t you trying to improve?”

 

“Playing chess at all will improve your skills. Not practicing is a dangerous game to play.”

 

“It’s still a game, right?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Kokichi shrugged and moved another piece. “You seemed to be treating this entire school year like a game. Get enough knowledge and level up. That’s been your philosophy, right? It’s even your strategy right now.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re moving your pieces in order of importance. You started with your pawns and then moved your bishop, knight, and rook.”

 

“Is that bad?”

 

“Just really dull and predictable. I prefer games where you can predict someone’s movements but not a hundred percent. It leaves that sense of uncertainty, you know?”

 

Tsumugi rolled her eyes and moved her bishop to take his pawn. “You’re just saying that because you like lying to everyone.”

 

“Nishishi! I’ve been caught again!”

 

“Yeah, why is that, by the way? You lie so much I can’t tell if you even know who you are.”

 

“Of course I know who I am. I’m a liar.”

 

“Describe yourself in three words.”

 

“Isn’t that concept so limiting?” Kokichi groaned, inspecting his fingernails as he moved another piece. “Words only have so much impact. Actions are what matter most.” He glanced up. “Hey, Shirogane-chan, try describing me in three words.”

 

Tsumugi thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “Hm… I’d say you’re a liar, mischievous, and childish.”

 

“See? Three words are enough to describe a character, not a full person.”

 

Tsumugi’s fists clenched.

 

“Or maybe that was a lie. The world will never know.” He grinned. “Or have you been treating me like a character all this time?”

 

“Don’t drag me like this. Even if you act like a character, I’m analyzing you like a person.” Her eyes met his. “Your character persona is so obvious that it hurts. No person has only one side to them.”

 

“What if I’m just special?”

 

“Don’t delude yourself. Everyone has a personality for a reason, even children. You’re seventeen years old, Ouma-kun, I’m pretty sure you’re not a child.”

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you really sure?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Ouma-kun, I am _this close_ to throwing this pawn at you.”

 

“Fine, fine,” Kokichi fell silent, but a smile remained on his face. “You’re a pretty committed person, you know that?”

 

“What?”

 

“You know, committed? _Comprometida. Impegnata._ Need any more languages?”

 

Tsumugi’s eyes sparkled, and she finally looked up from the chessboard. “Wait, you know Spanish and Italian? Since when?”

 

“Since years ago.”

 

“How?”

 

“In my freshman year, our AP human teacher made us learn a few basic phrases of a language. I got stuck with both Spanish and Italian since no one else wanted to do them. She said we shouldn’t do phrases like ‘the green salamander is resting on the sunny log,’ so I did the only logical thing and learned the languages until I reached that level of comprehension.”

 

“So you’re telling me you learned not one, but _two_ languages just to piss your teacher off?”

 

“Yup! The look on her face was totally worth it.”

 

Tsumugi shook her head and moved a piece. “Why am I not surprised?”

 

Kokichi snickered as he moved his own piece forward. “That was disappointing, right? Were you hoping that I would be one of your language learning buddies?”

 

“No, I wasn’t hoping for that at all.”

 

“You should know better than to lie to the ultimate liar, Shirogane-chan,” Kokichi said, “But I guess it was pretty fun learning them, especially with the goal of pissing off the teacher.”

 

Tsumugi took the hint with the enthusiasm of a child and gripped Kokichi’s hands. “Then learn more languages with me! It would be so much better to be able to practice pronunciation and actual dialogue without talking to myself. And wouldn’t it be fun to confuse Amami-kun and Iruma-san when we switch languages around them?”

 

Kokichi smiled back at her but pulled his hands away.

 

 _You can surprise us with hugs every day, but you can’t handle someone grabbing your hand?_ Tsumugi shook the thought away before moving her hands back to her side. “Sorry. So? What do you say?”

 

His face broke into a grin. “How can I decline an invitation to mess with people?”

 

“Great! You have my number, so you can set up our schedule.”

 

The two continued to play chess as they discussed their practice schedule.

 

 _Wait, if he knows this much already…_ Tsumugi furrowed her eyebrows. “If you know both Spanish and Italian off the top of your head, why did you need me to join the cheating ring for foreign language? That’s just not beneficial to you.”

 

“I can’t believe you’re still trying to figure me out. That takes some serious guts.”

 

“Not trying to figure you out, just curious. Why are you so defensive about that?”

 

“Now _you’re_ playing a dangerous game.” He paused to move a piece forward as Tsumugi stared at him. “I just wanted to see if the student council president would join us. It was a pretty interesting experiment.”

 

“That’s not even what an experiment is. And why do you keep bringing up games?”

 

“Because I’ve never lost one in my life.”

 

“Really? Not even Monopoly?”

 

Kokichi paused before slowly saying, “Don’t you need friends to play Monopoly?” He covered up his hesitation with a smirk. “Not like you would know. Aren’t your only friends those creeps living in their parents’ basements with food stains all over their clothes?”

 

Tsumugi scowled and opened her mouth to scold him before catching herself. “Are you telling me you’ve never had friends?”

 

“Are you telling me you have?”

 

“Well, I’m a BNF in the cosplay world. I don’t know why with someone as…” She searched for another word. “As _ordinary_ as me, but I’ve made some connections. And it seems like you haven’t just because you keep pushing everyone away.”

 

“How do you know that for sure?”

 

“You may think you’re a good liar, but I can tell you don’t really believe that about the anime and manga community. You wouldn’t have talked to me if you thought otherwise.”

 

“Nishishi! Shirogane-chan figured it out! But before you get all cocky, you might want to look back down at the board.”

 

Tsumugi looked back down, only to see that his queen and bishop had pinned her king in a checkmate.

 

“Well, that was a good game,” Kokichi said, standing up and stretching. “Oh, and Shirogane-chan?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m not a normie. I’m the chess club president and an IM. See you later!” He shot her a bright grin before strolling away with a bounce in his step.

 

The words took a moment to process. “... Wait, what? _IM_?” Tsumugi shot up out of her chair. Her gaze darted from Kokichi to the chessboard and back to Kokichi. “Ouma-kun, get back here!” She shriveled under the glare of a librarian and sat back down at the chessboard, thinking over what had just happened. Her hands moved to set up the chessboard again.

 

The more she thought about it, the more the thought of being a fictional character became unappealing. Before playing a game with Kokichi, Tsumugi had thought of him as a reflection of antagonistic characters in anime she had seen before: creative but ultimately boring and plain, just like her. Now, she wasn’t so sure about that.

 

She dusted her hands off after she rearranged the board.

 

If both of them were fictional characters, would their traits have been brushed over for the sake of the plot? Would they still have similar hobbies like studying languages or playing chess? With Kokichi’s antagonistic tendencies and herself as a side character…  
  
No, she shouldn’t think like that. The only correct thought finally settled in:

 

_Is fiction truly better than reality?_

 

Around half an hour later, Kokichi had arrived at his home. He took his usual spot in front of the whiteboard, his eyes trained on the cutout of Tsumugi.

 

She had proved herself to be more interesting than she gave herself credit for. Her views on character had certainly changed since the last time he had a one-on-one talk with her, which was admittedly never. The look on her face when he pulled his hands away and when he had brought up needing friends to play Monopoly told him that she was at least one step closer to figuring him out.

 

His face wrenched into a scowl, and he threw his marker at the board. That was a mistake! How could he have let his guard down, even with a chess game going on?

 

The most intriguing part of his discussion was how willingly Tsumugi had taken him on as a “language learning buddy,” as she had called it. Didn’t she know better than to trust liars with education? Was she trying to trick him?

 

But she couldn’t lie about the warmth of her hand, no matter how disconcerting it was to suddenly be grabbed.

 

So Kokichi moved all three paper cutouts on the border between the Distrusted and the Ally circle. He erased any previous comments on the board and wrote a single question under all of their cutouts:

 

_Should I trust you?_

 

*

 

Maybe studying for exams with a friendquaintance after having a terrible workday wasn’t the best idea, especially for a subject Rantarou had trouble with.

 

Miu shrunk back when he ripped through the paper with his sharpened pencil. “Uh… You okay? You wanna take a break or something?”

 

“Can we just…” Rantarou huffed and threw his pencil down, leaning back in his chair. “Can we just pause the lesson so I can rant about my day? I haven’t done that in years, and today’s just been a really awful day.”

 

“Y-You haven’t complained in years?” Miu asked in disbelief. “Fucking shoot! You deserve it.”

 

“Okay, first of all, there was this one guy at my workplace…” He continued to ramble about everything that had happened in the span of the last twenty-four hours, everything from his little sister almost giving herself a second-degree burn to that _fucking bitch Janice from HR—_

 

Miu allowed him to finish before turning to him with one finger up. “Okay, fuck everything that happened, and especially fuck that dumbass coworker! You deserve better than shit like this.”

 

“I’m aware but… it’s not like I can do anything about it, right?”

 

“Hell no! You can’t just let life bend you over and fuck you in the ass. It’s gotta be the other way around. Next time I see that bitch coworker, I’m beating their ass.”

 

“You don’t even know what they look like.”

 

“So? Anyone who looks at other people’s screens needs a good beating.”

 

“That’s going a bit far…” Rantarou chuckled and stretched his arms. “Whew… Thanks for letting me do this, Iruma-san. I feel a lot better now.”

 

“No problem. But what took you so long? Don’t you have other outlets?”

 

“Not really. I can’t exactly be a negative person around my family.”

 

Miu snorted, leaning back in her chair. “I guarantee they know when you’ve had a bad day. Children aren’t fucking stupid.”

 

Rantarou scanned her posture, taking note of her tense fingers. “Are you perhaps speaking from experience?”

 

“I said that I wasn’t stupid, and I still stand by that.”

 

 _Jeez, why so defensive?_ “No, I mean… was there a person in your family who gave off such a negative energy that you noticed it as a child?”

 

“Does it really matter? He’s barely here around, so I don’t have to tolerate him anymore.”

 

“Is it your dad?”

 

Miu blinked. “Damn, how’d you know?”

 

“You too?”

 

“Your dad was shitty? I thought mine was the only one.”

 

“There are over seven billion people on this planet,” Rantarou said, “You’re never the only one.”

 

“Wow, way to make me feel unique, jackass.”

 

“Anyway, were you independent all these years?”

 

Miu furrowed her eyebrows. “Independent? What do you mean by that?”

 

“It’s basically having to take care of yourself and not having a parent or guardian around most of the time because that guardian doesn’t really care for you.”

 

“Isn’t that just called neglect?”

 

“Yeah, but I prefer to have a better word to describe it,” Rantarou said, “Isn’t independent just such a better word? I know it’s kind of downsizing its impact, but it’s just my personal preference, you know? It makes me feel better about myself.”

 

Miu looked down at the table, her gaze trained on her fingernails. “I guess… that does sound a lot better. But I’d rather just tell it like it is. I was neglected, and that’s that.” She glanced up. “How the hell did you even come up with that anyway? Like, were you just sitting around and jacking off one day until you thought of that?”

 

Rantarou ignored her second sentence. “It’s kind of hard to describe neglect to a bunch of elementary school kids, especially if the one doing that neglect is their ‘father’.”

 

Miu raised an eyebrow at the air quotes but decided against saying anything.

 

“I don’t really hate a lot of people, but he’s actually Satan,” Rantarou said, glaring holes in the wall. “Everyone says I look like a playboy, and that just kinda pisses me off. A lot of people also say I look like my dad, and that _really_ pisses me off.”

 

Miu nodded along with his words before snapping to attention. “Wait, is that why you’re taking care of your sisters so much? All because you hate your dad and don’t want to be like him?”

 

“I mean… I guess, yeah.”

 

“Wow. That’s the pettiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging you for it, but…” She pointed a finger at him and tilted her head. “You’ve already proved you’re not your dad. I mean, shit, you did more in a year than he ever did in his life, and your family knows it. Why do you have to keep proving yourself?”

 

“So I can make sure I never become him.”

 

“How would you ever become him if you hate him so much?”

 

“History repeats itself. I’m not willing to take any chances.”

 

Miu paused for a moment before speaking again. “I think you should have a bit more faith in yourself. I don’t think you’re gonna succumb to some mystical power and be transformed into your dad or something like that. That shit only happens in porn.”

 

“Transformations don’t happen in an instant. It happens over time of not watching yourself.” Rantarou relaxed his face into a smile after seeing Miu cower. “Sorry if I made a scary face there. Truth is, I just want to be careful.”

 

Miu gulped and seemed to brace herself for something. “B-But at the cost of yourself? If you really hate your dad, get back at him by being the happiest you can be without him.”

 

“I _am_ happy. This is the happiest I can be.”

 

“I don’t have to be the annoying twink to figure out you’re lying, even to yourself.” Miu reached out and swiped her finger across the bottom of his eyes, revealing dark circles underneath the layers of makeup he had applied. “Yeah, I figured. How much sleep are you getting?”

 

Rantarou chuckled and covered his eye with his hand. “Trust me, Iruma-san, I’m completely fine. It’s not like my health is in danger or anything.”

 

“Bitch, I asked a question.”

 

“Like… three or four hours a night. I know it’s a bit selfish, but—”

 

“ _That’s_ fucking selfish?” Miu said, reeling back at his answer. “Damn. I guess eighty-percent of the entire country is selfish then.”

 

“Eighty percent?” Rantarou blinked. “That’s actually a lot less than I was expecting.”

 

“I know, right? I saw this graph that said fourteen percent of people got less than five hours of sleep while I was calculating how much sleep I could avoid.”

 

“Isn’t it hypocritical to judge me for not sleeping when you pull all-nighters every other night?”

 

“Yeah, kind of, but the difference is that I do it for myself. You do it to what, piss off your dad that probably doesn’t care anyway?”

 

“How can you say you’re doing something for yourself when it’s not healthy?”

 

“So you admit it’s unhealthy?”

 

Rantarou took a deep breath. “That’s not what we’re talking about. Why do you deprive yourself of so much sleep by choice? What are you doing it for?”

 

“To invent shit and prove my old man wrong, of course,” Miu said, pointing a finger up. “That’s the reason I—oh.” She fell silent.

 

“If you’re making these unhealthy choices based on what your dad would think of you, isn’t that basically the same thing as what I’m doing?”

 

“So you admit it.”

 

“We’re not talking about that right now. We’re talking about you doing things to impress someone you hate.”

 

“I’m not doing these things to impress him, it’s to prove him wrong,” Miu mumbled, her voice low. “Bastard always said women don’t belong in STEM, so what did I do? I beat that bitch to the ground with my inventions. Not literally, but it was still satisfying. So I figured that if I change the world with my inventions, everyone would have to respect me, including my dipshit dad.”

 

“So you’re an inventor for respect?”

 

“No, I actually love the shit out of it,” Miu said with a scowl. “You trying to say I’m just some money-pandering asshole like those other miserable fucks?”

 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Rantarou said, raising his palms in front of him. “You just really value respect, right?”

 

“Hell yeah. What kind of person would I be without it?”

 

“... A happier one?”

 

Miu narrowed her eyes at him as he continued.

 

“I mean, isn’t it a lot easier to live life without worrying about whether people like you or not? Some people will love you, some people will hate you, and a lot of people just won’t care. That’s a fact of life, right?” Rantarou said, sweeping his hair to the side.

 

Miu pointed a thumb at herself. “Not if I can do anything about it. I was destined to do great things, you know!”

 

“I know, I believe you.”

 

They both fell silent before bursting into hysterical laughter.

 

“We’re both hypocrites, aren’t we?” Rantarou asked, his chuckles dying down as he wiped a tear away from his eye. “Both of us wanting to prove people wrong, I mean.”

 

Miu nodded fervently, still recovering from her laughter. “I meant everything I said, you know. I don’t think you can ever be like your father, even if you tried.”

 

“And I really think you can change the world,” Rantarou said, patting her on the shoulder. “Even if you mess up, I’ll still be here with you.”

 

Miu threw his hand off, fighting back a smile. “Oh, shut up, dumbass. Save that talk for when I actually take over the world.”

 

“Sure, sure.”

 

They resumed their studies in a contemplative silence, but Rantarou found that his mind wouldn’t shut down. Did his hatred for his father really outweigh something like health? Was looking out for his health even selfish? He had been starting to spend more time with his three allies, but that didn’t mean he was selfish, right?

 

Now, he was on the right track. But one question remained:

 

_How can I be happy?_

 

When Miu returned to her home, she took out her materials to study before catching sight of the previous sticky note she had left. She rolled her eyes and snorted. ‘ _What is intelligence?’ What the fuck was I thinking?_

 

But she had to admit that it was a compelling question, especially after her study session with Rantarou today. Would she really be happier if she didn’t pay attention to people? Critique was needed to drive a product to success, but what about during the thinking process? Did she really need negative opinions then? Maybe constructive criticism, but not toxic mindsets like the one that had poisoned her for the seventeen years she had been alive and still suffocated her to this day. So she took a sticky note and scribbled down a single question on it:

 

_How can I be happy?_

 

*

 

Kokichi greeted the three people slouched over the cafeteria table with a wave and wide smile. “Wow, you guys look dead.”

 

“Fuck you,” Miu spat, raising her head from the table with a scowl. “You weren’t the one studying for exams.”

 

Rantarou chuckled and raised his head as well. “I prefer using the tried and true method of deducing answers based on context clues from other questions and then using those answers to give me even more context clues for even more questions in a two-hour-long, stress-fueled logic puzzle extravaganza of doom.”

 

“... You okay, man?”

 

“No.”

 

“Enough of your normie angst,” Tsumugi growled, settling her gaze on Kokichi. “I can’t believe you know all these languages and never told me.”

 

Kokichi scoffed. “It’s not like I know them fluently or anything. Wouldn’t want to disappoint your weeaboo fantasies.”

 

“I’m not a weeaboo!”

 

Their conversation was cut short when someone walked in carrying a bag of zip ties and announced, “Free zip ties for Zip Tie Day!”

 

Kokichi shot out of his chair and grabbed a handful of ties before returning to his seat with a new mischievous grin. “You know what Zip Tie Day is, right?”

 

Before anyone could respond, another student approached their table and zip tied the chains of the table together. He walked away without a word.

 

“Hey! Stop!” a teacher called, chasing after the student, who broke into a run at hearing her voice.

 

The same scene was happening for the other groups, though with varying degrees of success.

 

“We should probably leave before we—oh.” Tsumugi looked down at her linked wrist. Rantarou, the person she was linked with, only gave her a shrug in response. Soon, Miu and Kokichi were tied to them as well.

 

“Uh, this is great and all for our partnership, but we don’t have our next class together,” Rantarou said, tugging at the tie.

 

Kokichi laughed and stuck his tongue out. “Nishishi! Now you’re all stuck with me for the rest of the day!”

 

Tsumugi took one look at him before digging through her backpack and cutting the ties apart with a scissor.

 

Kokichi pouted. “You’re no fun. Why do you even carry that around in the first place? Who carries scissors anymore?”

 

“Years of cosplaying taught me that anything can happen in an unpredictable environment.”

 

“... Yeah, that sounds fine and all,” Rantarou said, “But how is the school you visit for at least seven hours five days a week unpredictable at all?”

 

“Easy. Like this!” Kokichi reached out and took Miu’s goggles from her head before running off.

 

“W-What? Come back here, you asshole!” Miu took off after him, yelling curses and threats.

 

“I think my point was proven,” Tsumugi said.

 

Rantarou watched them chase each other around the cafeteria, bumping into walls and occasionally hitting other students. “Do they know class starts in a few minutes?”

 

“I know for sure that Ouma-kun knows. I bet he just doesn’t care. I’m not so sure about Iruma-san, though.” She cringed upon seeing both of them get chewed out by a teacher. She took a deep breath before turning to him with a hesitant outstretched hand.  “Wanna just go to class so we’re not associated with them?”

 

Rantarou stared at the hand and back at Tsumugi’s wavering smile, and the message was clear.

 

_Truce?_

 

Rantarou paused before smiling and taking her hand with his own. “Sure.”

 

_Truce._

 

The two shook hands and walked up the stairs. They broke into a run upon hearing heavy footsteps running towards them, laughing at the insults Miu and Kokichi slung at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comprometida. impegnata: Yeah uh I have no idea if either of those words make sense in context but I tried. Please forgive me.
> 
> "the green salamander is resting on the sunny log": Yes, this shit actually happened. This was the exact sentence my teacher told us not to put for our assignment but my friend did it anyway. Granted, he probably used google translate and the teacher thought it was funny but still.
> 
> IM: International Master. It's the second highest title for chess, right below grandmaster.
> 
> "stress-fueled logic puzzle extravaganza of doom.”: Quote taken from a tumblr text post.
> 
> "Who carries scissors anymore?”: i'm pretty sure only like 3 people carry around scissors in my school and I'm one of them. Why does no one have scissors anymore?
> 
> Please let me know if you have any questions.


	3. Paper, Arcades, Armor, Senior Prank, Wrapping Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I have received it.”

“Fuck! We have a geography quiz today?” Miu asked, rifling through her backpack. Stray papers flew everywhere, spilling onto the table and the floor.

 

Rantarou gave her a strange look and bent down to pick up the papers. “Yeah… I told you that yesterday multiple times. I prepared for it ahead of time anyway, so you shouldn’t worry. Here’s the plan.” He leaned in and whispered his scheme.

 

“... That’s the oldest trick in the book. There’s no way that the teacher won’t know what’s going on,” Tsumugi said.

 

Kokichi waved a finger in front of her face. “Not so fast, Shirogane-chan. Our geography teacher doesn’t have a lot of experience teaching, and she likes Amami-chan too much to suspect him of anything.”

 

“Damn teacher’s pets…” Tsumugi grumbled.

 

“You’re the teacher’s pet for at least three other teachers.”

 

“Yeah, but the good kind.”

 

“There’s a good kind?”

 

Miu stepped in before the argument could go further. “Okay, we get it. Now, what the hell are we gonna do about time intervals? We can’t just keep using five minutes all the time, or the teachers will get suspicious.”

 

Kokichi’s eyes sparkled. “Wow! Iruma-chan actually said something smart!”

 

“H-Hey! I’m plenty smart enough,” Miu said, “Smart enough to figure out you have major trus—ow! Fuck was that for?”

 

Kokichi looked away and whistled like he hadn’t just kicked her foot.

 

“The geography teacher caught one group of people cheating, and that was when a group of low-grade people stood up at the same time five minutes into the test,” Rantarou said. “I think a three, five, and ten-minute interval would be the best at avoiding being caught since she can’t really get a pattern out of that. I know that Shirogane-san has the highest grade in that class besides me, but who has the lowest grade?”

 

“N-Not me!” Miu stuttered, puffing her chest out.

 

“You literally didn’t know where India was.”

 

“And you didn’t know basic calculus! Who’s the stupid one now?”

 

“Relax, I’m not calling you or anyone else stupid. Why do you always get so on edge when someone even hints at your intelligence?”

 

“It’s not my fault I’m so bad at geography. It’s just not relevant to what I’m planning on being.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“Inventor. I’m gonna be the best inventor this world has ever fucking seen!”

 

Rantarou thought before asking, “Then wouldn’t it be best to at least learn where the countries are? You’re going to have to advertise your product, and you won’t be able to do that if you don’t know what country they’re in.”

 

“Well, you’ll need to know math if you ever want to analyze economy or whatever the fuck geographers do,” Miu said, shrinking back.

 

An awkward silence enveloped the quartet, though the volume in the commons remained unchanged. Rantarou had a hand half held out to Miu as if he were trying to console her while Miu’s shoulders tensed up. Kokichi and Tsumugi exchanged a glance, their eyes wide and begging for the other to do something. Kokichi leaned back in his chair, and Tsumugi sighed.

 

“Anyway,” Tsumugi started, her eyes darting back and forth between Rantarou and Miu. “It’s not like we have any other option but to go through with it. Let’s just go.”

 

Kokichi was the first one out of his seat and almost bumped into at least ten other people. Rantarou followed after him, apologizing for Kokichi’s actions. Tsumugi followed shortly after before turning around with a gentle smile.

 

“Are you coming?”

 

“Y-Yeah, I’m going,” Miu mumbled, scurrying forward.

 

The walk to their class was silent.

 

*

 

By the time geography class came, the tense atmosphere was replaced with anxiety. Students slowly filtered into the room, half-asleep and not prepared for the quiz in the slightest. Rantarou sat in front of Tsumugi, who was first in a line of Kokichi and Miu. They stared ahead, their stone-cold faces betraying nothing.

 

The teacher held out a stack of papers. “Amami, could you pass out these papers?”

 

Rantarou took the papers and passed them out. He paused by his own desk and set down two sheets before skipping Tsumugi and passing out the rest of the stack. He sat back in his seat and started working on the quiz.

 

Tsumugi’s gaze flickered around the room. She pretended to scribble on her nonexistent paper.

 

Around twenty minutes later, Rantarou set his pencil down. He glanced at the teacher before sliding one of his papers off the desk and onto his lap. His eyes scanned the room once more. After five seconds of no one sparing him a glance, he slid it down to the floor and passed it back with his foot. He turned his own paper in.

 

Tsumugi peered down the row while taking the paper with her foot. She shook her shoe off and brought the paper up to her lap, ignoring the wrinkled noses from Kokichi and Miu. She set the paper on the table before erasing an answer and replacing it with her own handwriting. 

 

Right after Tsumugi finished replacing the last answer, Kokichi grabbed the paper from her and filled in his own answer sheet.

 

Miu scowled and grabbed it from him next. She filled out her own paper and passed it back to Kokichi, who passed it back to Tsumugi.

 

Tsumugi made a face at the crumpled state of her paper but turned it in anyway.

 

Kokichi waited five minutes before moving to turn his paper in.

 

Miu waited ten minutes before following suit.

 

The bell rang soon after, signaling the end of class and the end of the school day. Students rushed to turn in their papers and ran out of the room into the flooded hallway.

 

Tsumugi and Kokichi walked out of the room together, leaving Miu and Rantarou behind. The tense atmosphere from that morning reappeared, and both of them were left shuffling their feet and looking anywhere else but each other.

 

Miu gulped and took a step forward. “Hey, Dickmami, I need to talk to you for a sec.”

 

“Sure, what is it?” Rantarou asked. His smile seemed strained but was still present.

 

“Can…” She bit her lip, her grip on the straps of her backpack so tight her knuckles turned white. “Can you tutor me in geography?”

 

Rantarou blinked but nodded, his smile growing as warm as the sun. “Of course! But only if you tutor me in math.”

 

“Deal,” Miu said. Her hesitation faded with each second. “You would be blessed to be tutored by the great Miu Iruma!”

 

Rantarou nodded and walked back home with her by his side, listening to her rant about stupid questions on the exams and occasionally butting in with his own complaints. Their conversation morphed from other tests to their favorite foods to what kind of socks they wore in the winter. It was almost as if they were friends. Almost.

 

With that, the summer warmth slowly returned both outside and in Rantarou’s heart.

 

*

 

Rantarou didn't always go to the arcade by himself but when he did, that Dance Dance Revolution machine was going to be broken by the time he was done.

 

He stepped into the arcade, allowing the dimmed lighting to surround him. The oily, carpet-like smell, while not pleasant, added to the atmosphere he had grown to know so familiarly. Children ran past him followed by their parents (he smiled, memories of him and his sisters playing together during summer break flashing in his mind). Some teenagers he couldn't recognize were gathered around a claw machine filled halfway with stuffed animals. The DDR machine was… taken?

 

Rantarou frowned and stepped forward to take a closer look.

 

The asshole that had stolen his DDR machine was pretty good, Rantarou had to admit that. The boy wore a black uniform and had his purple hair splayed out across his shoulders. His eyes were glued to the arrows on the screen.

 

Wait. That looked an awful lot like a school uniform, and that looked an awful lot like one of his frien— _ allies _ . 

 

“Ouma-kun?”

 

The person whipped his head around, eyes widening when he saw Rantarou. The arrows flew past, resulting in a game over.

 

Kokichi pouted. “Look what you did, Amami-chan. I got a game over because of you.”

 

“Ah, right. Sorry.” Rantarou hopped onto the other platform next to him. “I didn't know you were good at DDR.”

 

“I didn't know you were good either. You took up every leaderboard space. Well, except for the last one.”

 

Rantarou frowned. He was pretty sure he had taken every leaderboard position.

 

“Because  _ I  _ took that one.”

 

“You sick, sick son of a bitch.”

 

Kokichi’s face wrenched into a sneer. “What are you gonna do about it?”

 

Rantarou paused before swiping his game card for another session and selecting multiplayer. “We’re gonna take the top leaderboard for multiplayer instead.”

 

Kokichi narrowed his eyes the slightest bit before they returned to their normal position. He smiled. “Hey, Amami-chan, mind telling me who the top leaderboard for multiplayer is?”

 

“My oldest sister and I. Why?”

 

“No reason.” He turned his attention back to the game and started the match. “Sooo do you come here with your family often?”

 

“Yeah, but why are you asking me this when we just started the round? It’s like you’re trying to throw me off or something.”

 

“Why would I throw you off if we’re working together?”

 

“You seem like a person that values fun. Chaos too, but to a lesser degree, I think.”

 

Kokichi’s smile grew wider. “Nishishi, you’re right on the money, Amami-chan! You might be more interesting than I thought.”

 

“Thanks, I guess.” Rantarou stumbled before grasping the handlebars tighter. “Anyway, what brings you here?”

 

“You don’t know? I’m the son of the owner of the arcade.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Nope! It was a lie!”

 

Rantarou sighed and smiled. “I should have known.”

 

Kokichi frowned. “Something tells me you didn’t believe that.”

 

“I’ve been coming here for years, and there’s been a lot of drama with the family that owns the arcade. Apparently, the owner’s this sleazy guy that’s cheated on his wife, like, five times,” Rantarou spat, a member of his own family coming to mind. “They don’t have kids, thank g—Ouma-kun, keep moving!”

 

“Oh, right.” Kokichi stomped on the correct arrows again. They played in silence before Kokichi asked, “Hey, Amami-chan, what would you say your dream in life is?”

 

Rantarou stopped to select the next song. “I guess just go for a geography major.”

 

“What about after that?”

 

“Hopefully get a job and support my family.”

 

Kokichi flashed him a grin. “Aw, that’s so sweet!” His feet stomped on the arrows. “But why? Do you not trust them or something?”

 

Rantarou reciprocated the smile. “You do know I’m not stupid, right? I know there’s a reason you’re asking me this. Are you trying to analyze me for my weaknesses or something?”

 

“Ah, yes, you caught me. I’m actually planning on using this cheating ring to blackmail everyone, but don’t tell Shirogane-chan or Iruma-chan.”

 

Rantarou sent him a side glare.

 

“... Fine, fine, I’m lying,” Kokichi mumbled.

 

“Speaking of, why do you lie so much? It’s almost like you have a certain purpose to it.”

 

“When did we start talking about lil’ ole me?” Kokichi said, “That’s just sooo boring. Let’s gossip instead. Did you hear one of the seniors got arrested the other day?”

 

“No, you wanna tell me about that?” Rantarou said.  _ No harm in humoring him a bit, right? _

 

Kokichi stopped when they finished their second song and turned to him, hands waving with each word. “In the cafeteria, these two girls got into a fistfight over taking someone’s boyfriend to homecoming. It’s either that or some Cheetos, I’m still not sure. Apparently, there was a video of it on YouTube, but I didn’t get to save it before it got taken down.”

 

“You… save videos like that?”

 

“Duh. An evil supreme leader’s gotta have blackmail, after all.”

 

Rantarou nodded and clicked on their last song. “You keep referring to yourself as some kind of supreme leader. Is there a reason for that?”

 

“Nuh uh, Amami-chan, we’re getting off topic now,” Kokichi deflected, “The security cameras showed who threw the first punch, and that girl got arrested. Not sure how long her sentence was.”

 

“Ouma-kun, we don’t have security cameras in the lunchroom. Was this all just a lie?”

 

“Yup! Well, part of it. The fight part definitely happened, I was the one who uploaded it. The school was being a major pain in the ass about it, so I had to take it down. No one got arrested, but both of them got suspended.”

 

“When did this happen?”

 

“Freshman year. I went to a different school, hence the uniform.”

 

Rantarou smiled when he caught sight of a group of middle school boys gathered around a claw machine. “Actually, I think you just couldn’t grow into the high school one. That uniform you’re wearing matches the middle school uniform stitch by stitch.”

 

“Nishishi! You caught me!” Kokichi hung his head. “But I don’t appreciate that comment about my height. It’s all genetics, you know.”

 

“What are you gonna do, headbutt me in the nipples?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

The two resumed the rest of their song in silence without any interruptions.

 

Rantarou watched the screen intently for their leaderboard position before being pushed to the ground. He scrambled to grip the poles and glared.

 

Kokichi snickered. “Tunnel vision is a bitch, isn't it? Anyway, what's our name gonna be?”

 

Rantarou paused before reaching out and selecting the letters one by one.

 

“... Amami-chan, you're the least creative person I've ever met. I hope you know that.”

 

“Haha, I know. But Ouma-kun...”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I hope you can trust me to tell me about yourself someday,” Rantarou said.

 

Kokichi stared at him blankly for a moment before fixing a grin on his face and gripping his wrist. “Oh! Let’s go to the claw machine! I’m a master at the claw machine!”

 

They left for other games in the arcade with the name “AO Meme Team” on the top leaderboard, and Rantarou found that the hole in his heart his family had left behind wasn’t as gaping.

 

But even after they had left the arcade and returned to their homes, Rantarou couldn’t help but replay his conversation with Kokichi over and over again. As much as a hypocrite Kokichi was about trust, he still had a point. Did he just not trust his family to take care of themselves? Maybe he was the one with trust issues after all.

 

But now that it’s settled in that he’ll never be anything like his dad and that he has dreams of his own…

 

Rantarou stopped to click the lights off in every bedroom before returning to his own.

 

He was left with a single question:

 

_ Can I trust myself? _

 

On the other side of town, Kokichi sat in front of his whiteboard, staring at three paper cutouts. While he had thought he had total control of the conversation at the arcade, it was clear that Rantarou was the one who was truly in control in the end. It was infuriating and impressive at the same time, but Kokichi didn’t have time to get hung up over that. No, he had a job to do.

 

Rantarou hoped that a liar could trust him? What the hell was he thinking, making a major leap of faith like that? Everyone knew that liars didn’t trust anyone.

 

… But maybe that would change. 

 

Could it change? A year ago, Kokichi would have gone with a hard “fuck no,” but now he wasn’t so sure. 

 

So he took a deep breath and moved all three cutouts out of the Distrusted circle and closer to the Friend and Ally circles. Would they be friends or allies? The answer rested on one question:

 

_ Will I trust you? _

 

*

 

Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck,  _ she didn’t anticipate this at all.

 

Tsumugi stared at her broken armor plate, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. She had a cosplay convention the next day. She couldn’t go with a broken armor plate, but she didn’t have any scrap metal left. No stores were open at this time either.

 

… Maybe it was time to make use of her acquaintances?

 

Tsumugi picked up her phone, scrolling through her contacts.

 

Most of the anime club members weren’t as into cosplay as she was, so they probably wouldn’t have scrap metal just lying around. Besides, she had already made a contract at the beginning of the year saying that no one could text each other past midnight. The student council was undoubtedly asleep at this point since a meeting had gone long again. The chess club probably wouldn’t take well to a random request for scrap metal.

 

Her thumb stopped on Miu’s contact picture.

 

Miu would be the perfect choice, right? She  _ had  _ bragged about her inventions several times in real life as well as in the group chat. It was like her entire identity was built around her being an inventor. If she didn’t have scrap metal, it would be flat-out weird.

 

Tsumugi tapped on the call button, waiting for the inevitable slew of curses to come.

 

But they never did.

 

Miu answered the phone with a soft, “Hello?”

 

“Iruma-san? Can I—”

 

“Fuck did you interrupt my damn sleep for? Do you know how much I worked just to get a goddamn hour of uninterrupted sleep? Text people before you outright fucking call them, you insensitive bitch!”

 

“...”

 

“Nah, I’m just playing. Sleep is useless. What do you want?”

 

Tsumugi blinked at the complete reversal in mood but refocused herself on her objective. “I was supposed to go to a cosplay convention tomorrow, but my armor plate broke, and I don’t have any scrap metal left. I was wondering if you did.”

 

“Hell yeah, I do! What kinda inventor would I be if I didn’t? I’ll text you my address.”

 

A few seconds later, Tsumugi’s phone buzzed from the text Miu had sent her. Tsumugi gathered up what was left of her armor plate and drove to Miu’s house.

 

Miu already had her garage open. She reeled back upon seeing the armor plate. “What the hell did you do to that poor thing? Looks like you just tossed it in a virgin’s cum box or something.”

 

Tsumugi didn’t need that mental image this late at night but stepped into the garage anyway, navigating carefully over the loose nuts and bolts. “The convention’s soon. Can you help me fix it?”

 

“Fix it? I can do so much more than just fix it,” Miu said, rushing towards a cabinet. She pulled out a box of power tools and tossed a screwdriver to Tsumugi. “Get your ass up and do some work. We’re gonna be here for a long time.”

 

True to her word, they stayed in the garage for hours. Time dragged on slowly as they fixed the armor plate, welding each individual piece together. Finally, they finished just as the sun peeked over the horizon.

 

“It looks great, Iruma-san! You’re so reliable,” Tsumugi said, her eyes sparkling despite the fatigue that dragged her down. “Do you mind me asking how you got into engineering?”

 

Miu leaned back on the ground. “Shit, man, I’m not completely sure. All I know is that I got into an accident and got put into a coma, and now I have all these skills.”

 

“That’s something straight out of a sci-fi.”

 

“Listen, I know you won’t believe me, but—”

 

“No, tell me more!” Tsumugi said, leaning forward with one finger curled outwards. “Why would you lie about something like this?”

 

Miu’s face wrinkled, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait, y-you’re actually willing to listen to me?”

 

Tsumugi nodded.

 

“Well…” Miu put her hands on her hips and cackled. “Listen the fuck up, because not listening to the great Miu Iruma’s origin story is a crime punishable by death!” She rattled off the details behind her passion, from the exact license plate of the car in front of them at the time to the blandness of the hospital food.

 

Tsumugi offered her a tired smile when she finished. “Iruma-san, this sounds great and all, but do you know who you actually were? Or are, even?”

 

Miu fell silent.

 

“I’m guessing that’s a no…?”

 

“Not exactly,” Miu said, her voice low. “I’m not completely sure yet, but I’m getting there.”

 

“Explain.”

 

“Why should I explain myself to you? Give me one good reason to trust you.”

 

Tsumugi raised an eyebrow. “Uh, we’re friends?”

 

“What?”

 

“Allies! I meant allies,” Tsumugi sputtered. She paused and sighed. “I know I’m not... a character, but I really hope someone can like me as a person. That’s what allies are for, right?”

 

“Who the fuck ever said you were a character?” Miu stopped to toss a cracker into her mouth. “Like, I get all the shit you were saying about you being plain and all, but ever stop to think about how you came to be that way?”

 

Years of hiding behind characters she deemed more interesting than she could ever hope to be flashed through Tsumugi’s head. She cringed at the persona she had created for herself and the self-sabotage of her earlier years.

 

“I’m not saying you gotta tell me or anything,” Miu said, “I’m just saying it’s good to think about these things. That’s literally how I make my blueprints. You know, working backwards and shit. And before you walk away like nothing happened, can you do something for me that the whatever-the-fuck convention you’re going to?”

 

“What would that be?”

 

Miu stepped away and wrapped her arms around herself, drool dripping down her lips. “Can you take some pictures of the other cosplayers for me? Especially the real sexy ones.”

 

“Why not just go with me?” Tsumugi asked, tilting her head.

 

Miu shrunk back, suddenly looking unsure of herself. “... Would that really be okay?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

 

“No. Conventions are always fun with allies, after all.”

 

Miu snapped to attention, regaining her brash tone. “Shut the hell up, Shittygane! We aren’t partners and we’re sure as hell not fucking allies either!” The blush on her face was enough to convince Tsumugi otherwise.

 

Tsumugi glanced at the clock. “If we want to make it to the best booths, we’ll have to go now. Let’s just take my car. I have the rest of my outfit in there.”

 

Miu hesitated but followed her to the car.

 

And later, when they were kicked out of the convention after Miu insulted someone who had snorted at Tsumugi’s cosplay, Tsumugi found that she didn’t mind returning to the real world.

 

When Tsumugi had returned home, she found herself staring blankly at the mannequin in her room. She knew exactly how she had become the way she was, something she had only discovered through pulling several all-nighters writing meta on herself. 

 

The feeling of inadequacy was a powerful one, a feeling not everyone was able to deflect easily, especially as a kid. What better way to cope than to project onto fictional characters? It had worked for a while when she was still figuring out who she was, but now… 

 

Now, she might be ready to move on.

 

But was that the right move? Would they like her for who she was?

 

Tsumugi looked down at her buzzing phone and smiled at the pictures Miu sent her of the convention. There was only one question left to answer:

 

_ Can I trust you? _

 

On the other side of town, Miu sat down at her desk and spammed Tsumugi with the pictures of them she had taken at the convention. 

 

Miu wasn’t ignorant enough to not know she was a complete hypocrite. She didn’t like thinking of her past either, despite urging Tsumugi to do so. She had already known she was a hypocrite from her conversation with Rantarou, but this had cemented that belief.

 

… But at least she was self-aware enough to call herself out on it, right? And she had her frien— _ allies _ by her side to help her… 

 

She found herself smiling at Tsumugi’s all-caps keysmashes before catching herself and scowling. The smile grew on her face again after Tsumugi sent a reply thanking her. This time, she couldn’t do anything to suppress it.

 

Unlike what she would have thought a year ago, she felt confident in both her allies and herself. She was only holding herself back. So one question remained:

 

_ Will I trust me? _

 

*

 

The seniors this year were extremely lucky they had a headmaster that would tolerate their annual prank day. However, dragging the rest of the school into their pranks was generally discouraged and an act punishable by detention. It was also common knowledge that being involved with their pranks as an underclassman was punishable by detention as well. While it was rarely enforced, the unspoken rule still existed.

 

Despite that, when the seniors strolled into school with giant water guns strapped to their backs, the underclassmen in the commons jumped on the tables and cheered as a blast of water knocked a senior to the ground. The senior jumped up and retaliated with a jet from their own water gun, which hit two seniors and a sophomore. Another senior thrust a water gun in the sophomore’s direction before spraying them directly in the face.

 

And from then on, it was every man for himself.

 

Tsumugi’s first instinct was to duck under a table. She only realized what a horrible idea that was when Kokichi, who had wrestled a water gun away from a crying sophomore, shot a jet of water straight in her face.

 

He jumped out from under the table and snickered, “Sorry, Shirogane-chan, but it’s every man for himse—”

 

“Take this, you tiny twink!” Miu shouted before unloading a barrage of water on Kokichi’s face.

 

“Twink?” Kokichi gasped and held a hand to his heart, scandalized. “Excuse you, I am a  _ twunk _ !”

 

Miu opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Rantarou collapsing by her feet.

 

Rantarou let out a shaky breath. “I’m done for, guys… Keep living without me. I know you can make it in the real world.”

 

“Gross,” Kokichi interrupted before spraying Rantarou with water.

 

Miu followed suit with her own water gun. “We don’t have time for this sappy shit. There’s a damn water gun fight going on, and hell if I’m gonna lose.”

 

“Everyone put your hands up!” a booming voice announced.

 

The cafeteria fell silent, and everyone dropped their guns.

 

The headmaster walked into the cafeteria, surveying the scene. “Seniors, was this for your prank day?”

 

They nodded.

 

“Whose idea was this?”

 

Silence.

 

“If no one wants to speak up, then everyone’s getting punished, underclassmen included.” The headmaster pulled out a notepad and started writing detention slips for everyone. “Maybe that’ll teach you not to lie to your authority figures.”

 

The truth was that no one quite knew whose idea the water gun battle was, not even the seniors. It was more of an amalgamation of ideas than anything, and everyone knew it. Everyone locked eyes with each other, from freshmen to sophomores to juniors to seniors, and collectively decided that this was bullshit.

 

“Incoming!” A senior with short, black hair and freckles threw a water balloon straight at the headmaster. The water balloon exploded on the headmaster’s head. She disappeared as soon as the headmaster turned around.

 

“Who did that?” he roared.

 

The silence was followed by students cheering at the reveal of water balloons and subsequently restarting the water fight.

 

Several hours later, the four walked back home, laughing as they discussed the events of that day.

 

“I can’t believe he actually gave everyone a detention slip,” Tsumugi muttered, dragging her feet along the sidewalk. “It’s my first detention. I was supposed to go all of high school without one.”

 

“Man, you’re such a teacher’s pet, Shirogane-chan,” Kokichi said, rolling his eyes.

 

Miu took one look at the words scribbled on her detention slip in red ink and cackled. “Kyahaha!  _ I _ can’t believe he actually gave everyone detention for, and I quote, ‘throwing water’. I’m framing this shit when I get home.”

 

“Oh! Can you frame mine, too?”

 

Rantarou passed his over as well. “Might as well frame it, right? Maybe we’ll look back at it later and laugh.”

 

“You normies are so sappy,” Tsumugi muttered despite handing over her detention slip as well.

 

Miu moved to stuff the detention slips in her backpack before thinking better of it and carrying it with her instead. “I’ll get these to you by next week. Beauty takes time, you know.”

 

Kokichi grinned. “Then you must have been born yesterday.”

 

“Okay, listen up, you little shit—”

 

“Hey, look, my house is here,” Rantarou said, interrupting their incoming argument. 

 

Miu looked at the house and wrinkled her nose. “Shut the fuck up, Cuckmami, we’re not even in your neighborhood.”

 

“Cuckmami’s a new one.”

 

Miu continued to spit out increasingly creative names while the others laughed and provided suggestions. Much to Rantarou’s dismay, they had managed to compile a list of over twenty variations of his name before the group had finally separated for the day.

 

*

 

Miu yawned and passed out their framed detention slips. “Alright, now give me your math homework, you irresponsible shits.” She cursed at the sheer amount of paper coming towards her but accepted them all.

 

“Isn’t there a speaking test today?” Rantarou said, scribbling down the answers to their geography homework. A few seconds later, he processed what he had said and looked up, his eyes wide with horror. “Wait, we have a speaking test today?”

 

“Are you guys telling me you need help on a speaking test?” Tsumugi asked in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing.

 

“It’s easy for you, not so much for us.”

 

Tsumugi thought for a moment before shaking her head. “You guys are on your own for this. We have a written test just next week, and I don’t want the teacher to get suspicious of us beforehand.”

 

The other three grumbled but accepted their fate.

 

*

 

Their death had arrived.

 

The students in the foreign language class shifted in their seats as one of their classmates fumbled during their speech and used words from the wrong unit.

 

“Did this guy just describe his room during the food unit?” Tsumugi whispered to the three sitting beside her.

 

All three shrugged.

 

The teacher sighed and dismissed the student. “Ouma, you’re up.”

 

Miu snickered while Rantarou hummed “Taps.” Kokichi shot them a thumbs up before striding up to the front of the room.

 

“Describe your favorite food,” the teacher prompted.

 

“Favorite food? That’s easy,” Kokichi said, grinning with his hands placed behind his head. He spouted out random words not related to the unit at all with the confidence of a model.

 

Miu struggled to hold back her laughter, and Rantarou took in a sharp inhale. Other students behaved similarly, thankful that they wouldn’t have the worst grade. The teacher’s eyebrows were furrowed and her lips tight. She scribbled notes on her clipboard in red ink.

 

_ Oh, for fuck’s sake. Ouma-kun, I know you’re lying about your own lack of ability right now, you little shit. _

 

Tsumugi looked around for anything,  _ anything _ that could knock her “flailing” friend to his senses. Finally, she caught sight of a whiteboard and marker sticking out of Kokichi’s backpack and took it out.

 

Rantarou, who sat on the other side of Kokichi, chuckled softly, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why does he just carry around a whiteboard?”

 

She had no idea, and she didn’t want to question it. She scribbled a few phrases on the whiteboard and held it up.

 

Kokichi’s eyes lit up when he saw the whiteboard. He took a long pause before describing the food Tsumugi had chosen in excruciating detail.

 

The teacher nodded and dismissed him. “Come on up, Iruma.”

 

Miu hesitated but walked to the front of the classroom.

 

Tsumugi took the board down and erased what she had written before writing something down and holding it back up. She bit back a sigh upon seeing Miu still fumble over her words.

 

The cycle repeated until everyone was finished with their speaking test.

 

The bell rang just as the last student finished their test. The students filed out of the room, all complaining about how badly they had done and competing for the position of worst speaker.

 

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Miu laughed as they walked down the hallway. “How did the teacher not turn around once?”

 

“I think the best part of this was the look on Shirogane-chan’s face,” Kokichi said through his laughs. 

 

Rantarou laughed along with him, grinning at Tsumugi’s scowl. “Yeah, you looked like you were about to choke one of us. Were you really that frustrated?”

 

Tsumugi shot them all a glare. “I don’t understand how you suck at foreign language this much. It’s really not that hard.” She narrowed her eyes at Kokichi. “And you, Ouma-kun. I know you can speak this language as fluently as I can. Why were you acting like an idiot?”

 

Rantarou stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at Tsumugi. “Shirogane-san. You didn’t know where Chile was.”

 

The other three laughed as Tsumugi desperately tried to defend herself. Soon, she gave up and laughed with them.

 

“I can’t believe you guys are my friends,” Tsumugi gushed. The ends of her mouth started to hurt from the grin on her face. That was the happiest she had felt in years.

 

The other three stopped in their tracks, and Tsumugi’s heart stopped.

 

“F-Friends?” Miu sputtered. Her gaze darted around for a bit before she began to twirl a lock of hair around her finger. “I guess that would be nice…”

 

“Man, I can’t believe it took you this long to admit we were friends when we literally spent the entire year together,” Kokichi said, looking down to inspect his fingernails. “But yeah, I guess we’re friends, or whatever.” His twitching smile betrayed his nonchalant attitude.

 

“You’re willing to be friends with the normie?” Rantarou mused. “Sure. I’d really like that.”

 

Tsumugi let out a sigh of relief, holding a hand over her chest. “You guys actually scared me for a moment. Did you all really have to freeze like that?”

 

“Where’s the drama in that?” Kokichi scoffed.

 

“Why am I friends with you again?”

 

The four continued walking down the street, exchanging banter and reveling in the unfamiliar feeling of companionship.

 

*

 

“This isn’t fair,” Kokichi whined. He lied down on the floor on top of a stack of math worksheets from what seemed to be an algebra II class. His fingers traced the numbers as he solved the equations in his head. “It’s our last day of school, why should we have to stay behind to clean up the seniors’ mess?”

 

Rantarou winced as a student emptied a garbage bag of papers into the recycling bin he carried. He dropped it next to him to pull Kokichi back up to his feet. “So we earn the right to do this next year. You know how it is.”

 

“Besides,” Tsumugi said, “The seniors have their proper graduation ceremony tomorrow in the gym. If we don’t clean up properly, we might mess something up.”

 

Just an hour prior, the seniors had gathered at the biggest staircase in the school and cheered as they emptied the paper they had accumulated over the years onto the staircase. It ended up being a hefty pile, some students even being able to slide down it. Afterwards, the seniors ran out of the school, leaving the juniors to clean everything up.

 

“Fuck! God damn paper cuts!” Miu hissed, holding her finger.

 

Tsumugi clicked her tongue and stepped forward to cradle the finger. “It doesn’t look too bad. Remind me to bandage it up for you after we finish this. You might also want to look into getting gloves to protect your hands.”

 

Miu pulled her finger back to her side, wiping the blood on her skin. “N-No, it’s fine! The great Miu Iruma can handle herself!”

 

“Obviously not since you just got hurt by a sheet of paper.  _ Soooo  _ dangerous,” Kokichi snorted.

 

“Oh, shut the fuck up. You’re just bitter I ended geography with a higher grade than you.”

 

“That’s not fair! You got tutoring from Amami-chan, and I tutored myself.”

 

“You literally bragged about not studying. That’s your own damn fault.”

 

“Still.”

 

Tsumugi stood up and brushed herself off before scanning the area. “I think our part is done. There’s only a few papers left.”

 

The other three dropped whatever papers they were holding, letting out sighs of relief and stretching their limbs.

 

“Hey, um…” Rantarou pointed a thumb behind him. “Do you guys wanna go and get ice cream? You know, since we survived this year and all?”

 

“Hell yeah!” Miu cheered, kicking her garbage bag away from her and wincing at the sheer heaviness of it. “I’m tired as fuck. Let’s just go.”

 

Kokichi slid a couple of papers towards another group’s section discreetly. “Yeah, sure, we’re done here anyway.”

 

Tsumugi gave a hesitant look to the teachers but followed as her friends headed outside.

 

The summer heat was already strong, the sun beating down on them as they walked down the street towards an ice cream parlor. A few seniors had already gathered there. A few parents and children were scattered around the area as well. They entered a took a seat in a booth, exchanging stories, experiences, and laughs like they had always dreamed of doing.

 

And that was how their junior year of high school came to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> worry not my friends this story is far from over ;)
> 
> Senior fight: Uh yeah this shit actually happened except I'm not sure if they were seniors or not. I wasn't personally there, I just heard it from my friends who were in the area at the time of the fight. Apparently the fight was between these two girls over either homecoming or cheetos... We've got a lot of range there... And a video was uploaded to youtube, but the school forced the guy to take it down.
> 
> Paper drop: There was a video on tumblr where a bunch of people dumped papers on the stairwell and someone explained the tradition through a reblog. Apparently it's a tradition for seniors to drop the papers and for freshmen to pick them up to earn their right to do it, but I switched it up a bit to fit the story
> 
> Please let me know if you have any questions!


	4. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We didn't realize we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All names were created using a name generator (except for some guest characters, who are from other dr games). My apologies if you happen to share a name with one of these people.

His sisters had been playing D&D in the dining room while he was washing dishes when someone shouted, “You people that think being a bard is about swinging swords and playing lutes disgust me. Where’s the pizzazz? The showmanship? Where is it?”

 

To that, Rantarou had laughed and mumbled, “Sounds like something Shirogane-san would say.” It occurred to him right after saying that he had made a mistake. A huge mistake. A mistake he could never recover from.

 

Then all his sisters had frozen and craned their heads towards him before bombarding him with questions.

 

“Who’s Shirogane-san?”

 

“Why are you using honorifics?”

 

“Woah! Big Bro Rantarou has friends!”

 

“H-Hey! Don’t disrespect Big Brother like that! I’m sure he has tons of friends, right?” one of his youngest sisters asked.

 

Rantarou gave her a sad smile.  _ If only you knew what I was like before last year.  _ “I have three.”

 

“Three more than you, Kotori!”

 

“Hey!” Kotori huffed and puffed her chest out. “I’ll have you know that I have tons of friends. I probably have more friends than all of you combined.”

 

“Sounds just like Iruma-san,” Rantarou chuckled before catching his mistake. “I mean… uh….”

 

One of the older sisters snorted and put her feet on the table. “I don’t even know why you’re trying to lie. You know that we all hate liars.”

 

He gave up trying to hide his friends at that point. The comparison was too good to pass up. Rantarou’s eyes stayed glued to the dishes as he muttered, “Don’t be an Ouma-kun.”

 

Kotori pointed an accusing finger at him with a pout on her face. “Are your friends all imaginary? I bet they are.”

 

“No, they’re not. I’m pretty sure they’re all real.”

 

“Prove it. Invite them over.”

 

“Yeah! Invite them!” his youngest sister cheered.

 

Soon, all twelve of his sisters joined in, begging him to invite them over.

 

… Should he call them over? The only time something had gone right with all four of them in one place was when they were cheating. Otherwise, Miu would either make one too many sex jokes or Kokichi would piss off the wrong person or Tsumugi would… tolerate their group of idiots with him. He supposed he could always call Tsumugi individually, but a meeting during the summer just wouldn’t be the same without all four of them messing everything up together.

 

“Fine, fine,” Rantarou said, drying off his hands before grabbing his phone.

 

And that was how he found himself tapping on his phone in the group chat, hoping that someone,  _ anyone _ would respond.

 

**Avocado:** hey. Anyone free to hang today?

**PantaLord:** why? Is your life just that boring without us? Why, im flattered amami-chan~

**Avocado:** no i just accidentally mentioned you guys to my sisters and now im trying to prove youre not imaginary

**PantaLord:** lol it would be so much funnier if they thought we were fake

**SHSLCosplayer:** Not so fast. Maybe none of us are real. There are theories about us just being a computer simulation, you know.

**Avocado:** it is way too early to be having an existential crisis

**GreatestInventor:** what? So we’re all fucking sims or some shit? Thats a load of fucking bullshit

**Avocado:** listen are u guys coming over or not

**GreatestInventor:** yeah lol im in

**PantaLord:** me too

**SHSLCosplayer:** Count me in as well.

**Avocado:** fine. ALSO NO CURSE WORDS OR SEX JOKES

**GreatestInventor:** wow theres no way this can be targeted towards anyone

**GreatestInventor:** also u forgot to text us your address u damn idiot

**Avocado:** u know where i live

**GreatestInventor:** lol true

 

Around ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Before Rantarou could even stand up, one of his sisters had sprinted to the door and opened it.

 

“What’s up, bi—” Miu cut herself off upon seeing the smiling little kid at the door. She hunched over and twirled her hair, looking away as Kokichi, Tsumugi, and Rantarou glared at her.

 

Tsumugi smiled and bent down to the child’s level. “Good morning. Is your older brother home?”

 

“I’m right here,” Rantarou said as he made his way to the front door. He dragged his sisters away from the door. “You can come in.”

 

Kokichi whistled as he looked around. “Dang, Amami-chan, you never told us you had such a nice house.”

 

“I have eyes in the back of my head. Just remember that before trying to steal something.”

 

“Nishishi! You know me so well!”

 

Rantarou shook his head before lining everyone up. “So here are my friends. This is Tsumugi Shirogane, Miu Iruma, and Kokichi Ouma. And here are my sisters from oldest to youngest.” He took a deep breath and recited, “Hitomi, Kotori, Maya, Ayako, Eiko, Kaori, Mei, Rika, Sachiko, Yuka, Narumi, and Teiko.”

 

Miu blinked. “Damn.”

 

Rantarou glared.

 

“I-I mean dang. Dang. That’s a big family.” She bit her lip in a subtle attempt to keep herself from making a joke and by the way Kokichi snickered at her, it wasn’t as subtle as she hoped it would be.

 

Hitomi leaned in closer and pointed at her goggles. “What are those for?”

 

Miu’s spirits lifted at the question. “They’re my work goggles. I kinda need them to protect my eyes when I’m working on an invention.”

 

“You’re an inventor?”

 

“Hel—Heck yeah! When I get outta high school, my name’s gonna be everywhere! Just watch!”

 

Kaori retreated from the room before bringing in a box. “Um… me, Hitomi, Ayako, and Yuka were working on making something for the school’s science fair. Can you give us feedback?”

 

Miu’s face lit up red and she froze, caught off guard by the question. “H-Huh? Me?” She regained her composure. “Sure. Can you open that up for me?”

 

The five of them retreated to another part of the house as they discussed their machine.

 

As they exited, Kokichi turned to Rantarou with a grin. “Hey, Amami-chan, remember when you told me that you had eyes in the back of your head?”

 

Rantarou gave him a wary look in return. “Yeah?”

 

“Looks like you’re blind. Catch.” Kokichi tossed a pair of keys in Rantarou’s direction.

 

He caught it and put it in his pocket. Instead of feeling annoyed, he could only smile. “I honestly don’t know why I’m surprised.” When he saw Kotori and three of his other sisters’ eyes light up, he knew his mistake had gotten even worse.

 

“Teach me how to do that!” Kotori demanded, leaning forward with clenched fists and a determined glint in her eyes.

 

Kokichi sent Rantarou a smug smirk before he copied her pose. “Sure! But you have to promise that you return everything when you’re done. It isn’t fun if your family hates you afterward.”

 

They vigorously nodded and led him to a separate part of the house.

 

“What do you do for fun?” Maya asked, tilting her head.

 

Tsumugi smiled. “I cosplay, which is basically dressing up as your favorite characters and living their life for a bit.”

 

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to dress up as?”

 

“Oh, lord… give me a minute, I have a picture.” She pulled something up on her phone and held it out to them.

 

Maya’s eyes popped open. “Can you do my hair like that?”

 

“Of course! I couldn’t call myself a cosplayer if I couldn’t do something as basic as that. Where are your hair supplies?”

 

The rest of his sisters dragged Tsumugi to the bathroom.

 

Rantarou smiled at the familiar buzz of chatter in his house. He finished cleaning the rest of the dishes before walking around to check on everyone.

 

First up was Miu, who had taken the machine out of the box and onto a bunch of old newspapers on the dining room table. “First, you have to remember that circuits are an unbroken looped pathway for electrons. You all know what electrons are, right?”

 

They nodded.

 

“Good. Now, what would happen if a circuit is broken?”

 

“The pathway would be cut. Any lightbulbs attached to it would turn off,” Kaori answered.

 

“That’s right. Now that you know that, can you add a switch to this circuit?”

 

The four nodded and went to work.

 

Miu left the table and joined Rantarou in the kitchen. “You have some bright ass sisters. They might be smarter than you at this shit.”

 

“Thanks, Iruma-san.”

 

“Listen, you’re the fucker who joined a cheating ring last year. You knew your weaknesses.”

 

Rantarou chuckled and raised his palms in front of his chest. “No, I’m actually being genuine. Thanks.”

 

“Huh? Why?”

 

“They’ve been interested in science for a long time,” he explained, crossing his arms. “Science was never my strength, so I haven’t been able to help them in that area. So thanks for teaching them in place of their usele—older brother. Older brother.”

 

Miu wrinkled her nose. “Were you about to say useless older brother? The fuck? Not knowing how circuits work make you pretty damn stupid, but not useless. We’ve been through this.” She raised a finger up. “Listen, if all your bullshit about you looking after all twelve of your sisters is true, then you’ve pretty much raised them from birth. I don’t know about you, but I think motherhood is some serious shit.”

 

“I’m not a mother.”

 

“No, but you still raised them, you fucking dumbass.”

 

She was right. A familiar warmth settled in his chest as he watched his sisters’ faces light up with the lightbulb. “They seem pretty happy right now. It looks like they just figured out how to make the switch.”

 

“Of course they did, I’m a fucking genius.” She retreated to the table upon hearing her name being called.

 

Rantarou cringed upon hearing another messy censorship but moved onto the next room, where he was greeted with four sisters tackling him to the ground while Kokichi laughed.

 

A few seconds later, they retreated, half of them snickering and the other half asking if he was okay. They fled to another room after confirming his safety.

 

Rantarou stood back up and fixed a stern glare on Kokichi. “Ouma-kun, you better not have been teaching them bad things.”

 

“Of course not, Amami-chan. What kind of person do you think I am?” His eyes flickered in the direction of where his sisters had gone. “They’re a lot more polite than I thought they would be. It was honestly kind of boring… but them knocking you to the ground wasn’t. What kind of older brother can’t handle a four-man takedown?”

 

Rantarou stayed silent, the insecurities rooted inside him growing.

 

Kokichi put one hand on his hip and turned his head towards his other hand. “But man, you know what else was boring? How much they kept talking about you. It was always ‘big brother did that’ or ‘big brother did this.’”

 

Rantarou’s doubts and fears were cut at his words. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do.”

 

“Is it working?”

 

“Yeah. Thanks, Ouma-kun.”

 

“That’s great because I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kokichi said, but Rantarou could tell that both of them knew he was lying. “Also, catch!”

 

Rantarou blinked before reaching up and catching the keys flung at him from another room. He could vaguely hear the sounds of his sisters giggling. He chuckled. “I should have known you would get along well with kids. You’re practically one yourself.”

 

“Is that an insult?”

 

“Just an observation,” Rantarou said before moving towards the bathroom. He walked in to find Tsumugi tying someone’s hair with a pink and purple bow.

 

Tsumugi looked up and smiled before finishing the bow and addressing him. “Hey, Amami-kun.”

 

“How are they?”

 

She looked down at her red finger. “They’re a bit of a handful, but they’re good kids, even if one of them burnt my finger. I can tell you did a good job raising them.”

 

Rantarou swallowed hard, his gaze focused on his sisters playing with their hair. If he wasn’t careful, he would end up crying at the scene that seemed so mundane but was special nonetheless. “Thanks, Shirogane-san. It really means a lot to me.”

 

“I can tell. You’re such a normie, sometimes.” Tsumugi paused. “Not that that’s a bad thing. I’m glad you’re close with your family, especially since you’re not obsessed with them anymore.” She patted his shoulder before walking back into the bathroom.

 

The day ended all too quickly. The other three had left together while Rantarou stayed behind with his sisters.

 

As he tucked his youngest sister into bed, she tugged on his bracelet. “Hey, Big Brother… I’m really glad you have friends now. Have fun with them.” She drifted to sleep right after speaking.

 

Rantarou returned to his room and collapsed into bed, blinking back the tears he had tried so hard to conceal. He took out his phone and scrolled through the pictures, only to realize that half was of his siblings and the other half was of his friends.

 

He smiled as he stopped on one picture.

 

It was during their junior year halfway through the second semester. Miu had stolen his phone and taken a series of selfies in a classroom he couldn’t recognize. Tsumugi was in the background, her mouth open and one finger pointing out. She appeared to be scolding them, but her smile said otherwise. Kokichi interrupted her halfway through the series and put up two fingers behind Miu’s head. He also seemed to have taken control of the phone afterward, as there were purple hearts drawn all over the pictures.

 

He kept scrolling through the pictures, including a recording of Tsumugi and Kokichi speaking in another language rapidly while Rantarou translated the few words he could recognize, a picture of Kokichi bent over in laughter while Miu appeared to be in the middle of screaming at him for taking her fries at lunch, and a video of Tsumugi putting a crown she had made for a cosplay on top of Miu’s head, Miu’s face steadily growing redder as the video continued rolling.

 

Some of the other pictures he had taken were screenshots from the group chat. Most of them were only stretched over a few pictures, like when Miu had sent them a list of nicknames she had created for them or when Tsumugi had finally finished a commission and needed someone to celebrate with. 

 

But what took the cake was when Kokichi had drunk too much Panta and started sending them cryptic, philosophical messages in perfect grammar. The conversation stretched out over fifty pictures, each containing at least one concerned message from Tsumugi and unnecessary encouragement from Miu. Rantarou had been too busy driving to Kokichi’s house to respond in the group chat, but he didn’t fail to screenshot the texts the moment he returned home after making sure Kokichi hadn’t died.

 

He had taken another picture just today right before his friends had left. It was a picture of him in the middle of a row of his sisters with his friends standing behind them. Their smiles were so bright Rantarou felt he had to squint to look at the picture.

 

Finally, he plugged his phone into the charger and dropped it to the floor, allowing his first tears in years to fall.

 

After a long eighteen years, he had finally found three other people he could call family.

 

*

 

Going to anime conventions alone was nothing new to Tsumugi at this point. She had been attending them since her first year of middle school, and her parents had started to refuse to go with her during her freshman year. Going to conventions as a BNF alone meant she was well-versed in dealing with people she didn’t want to talk to. She knew she could defend herself with her years of experience.

 

So why was she stuck in her driveway in full costume and makeup, her car unmoving as her thumbs flew across the keyboard of her phone?

 

**SHSLCosplayer:** Hey, is anyone awake?

**PantaLord:** well now i am

**GreatestInventor:** sleep is for the fucking weak

**Avocado:** you say as you proceed to sleep for 15 hours

**GreatestInventor:** shut the fuck up

**SHSLCosplayer:** Would you guys like to come to an anime convention with me? Like right now?

**PantaLord:** man shirogane-chan is such a weeeeeeeeb

**PantaLord:** yeah ill go

**Avocado:** i don’t see why not

**GreatestInventor:** dont tell me u guys were thinking of ditching me. Im coming too

**GreatestInventor:** haha coming

**PantaLord:** can you contribute anything useful to the conversation, you stupid slut?

**GreatestInventor:** …. I might be a little late

**PantaLord:** gross

**SHSLCosplayer:** Ok, just meet me at my house.

 

Sometime later just as Tsumugi started to nod off, there was a faint sound of footsteps and a yell before her car door suddenly flew open. Tsumugi whipped around, only to see an all too familiar smirk. She couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face. “Hey, Ouma-kun.”

 

“Hi, Shirogane-chan!” Kokichi sang. “You miss us yet?”

 

“Hell no, you ain’t riding shotgun!” came a familiar voice that sounded like Miu. Sure enough, she bounded towards them a few seconds later and pushed Kokichi out of the way. Miu offered her a smug smile while climbing into the passenger seat. “What the fuck is up, Shittygane?”

 

Before she could respond, two people had barreled into the backseats, one being Kokichi and the other being a familiar green head of hair.

 

“Good morning, Shirogane-san,” Rantarou called before pulling the car door shut and pulling the seatbelt over him. He frowned when he looked to the side. “Ouma-kun, you should do your seatbelt.”

 

“I live life on the edge, Amami-chan, I don’t need a stupid belt,” Kokichi snorted.

 

“Do your seatbelt,” Tsumugi said.

 

Kokichi pulled the seatbelt over his body and snapped it into place, but not without a teasing smirk directed at Rantarou, earning a strained smile in response.

 

Luckily, the convention wasn’t too far from Tsumugi’s house. Kokichi was the first one to hop out of the car, stretching his limbs. “Man, that was such a boring car ride. You didn’t tell us it would take an hour.”   
  
“You don’t know true pain until you’ve traveled for ten hours by plane to get to your robotics competition,” Miu grunted. She stepped out next.   
  
“Don’t turn this into the pain Olympics,” Rantarou muttered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

 

Tsumugi’s heart thudded as she scanned the convention area. People cosplaying characters from all installments of her favorite video game crowded the streets. “Look! There’s so many people from Dangan Ronpa here! Isn’t cosplay beautiful?”

 

“Is that what the wig’s for?” Rantarou asked. “Who are you dressed up as?”

 

“Ryoko Otonashi, the Ultimate Analytical Prowess!” Tsumugi announced, putting her hands on her hips and straightening her posture. She blinked. “Wasn’t there this one senior at our school that was really good at analysis? Junko, I think?”

 

Kokichi shook his head and wagged his finger in front of Tsumugi’s face. “Now, now, Shirogane-chan.  _ We’re _ the seniors now.”

 

“I find it hard to believe that someone like you is almost legally an adult now.”

 

“Rude. I even came here with you.” Tears sprouted in his eyes, and he gripped his chest dramatically. “Does our friendship mean nothing to you?”

 

“Let’s just get this over with,” Miu said before Kokichi could unload his tears.

 

They walked into the convention area together, chattering and pointing to sights.

 

The convention itself wasn’t too unusual, not too small and not too big. It took place in a huge, transparent building and spilled out into the streets. Food vendors and artists were scattered around both areas. People walked by in singles, duos, triplets, quartets, even in groups as large as twenty. Lines were just beginning to form at the stands artists had set up with postings of some of their work.

 

Tsumugi grabbed their arms and dragged them to a line with a person selling art. “Look! That’s my favorite artist!”

 

The artist visibly brightened at her words, hiding a smile behind his hand.

 

After waiting in line and purchasing a print, Tsumugi dragged them into a room with rows of chairs and a table at the front. A few people had already gathered and were waiting for something to start.

 

“I think it’s a bit too early for this,” Rantarou said, “When does this event start?”

 

“Two o’clock,” Tsumugi responded, her eyes glued to the program someone had handed her.

 

Miu scowled and snatched the program out of her hands. “Bitch, it’s not even eleven yet. What’s this shit even about?”

 

“It’s a panel from the people of Dangan Ronpa,” Tsumugi explained, her eyes sparkling. “Apparently they wanted to start up a live action of the series, and this is where they’re gathering people to participate in their show. Our personalities will be altered to fit a specific character from the games. Isn’t that exciting?”

 

“You… You want to be in a fictional world? You want to be a character?”

 

Tsumugi frowned and looked away. “Well, when you put it that way…” She grabbed three maps off a nearby rack and handed them to each person. “Do you want to split up for now?”

 

“Jeez, Shirogane-chan, did you not learn anything from all those horror movies we watched on Valentine’s Day?” Kokichi said, rolling his eyes.

 

Tsumugi had learned something that day, and that lesson was to never trust Kokichi with movie selection. She, Rantarou, and Miu had been huddled on the couch when Kokichi had pulled out an entire horror movie franchise Tsumugi didn’t even know she owned. Unfortunately, neither of the three were fast enough to stop him from sliding the disc into the player, and the player had jammed at that exact moment. And that was how they ended up making fun of shitty horror movies together on the one day horror movies were discouraged.

 

“I’d like to explore the building by myself, but that’s probably not a good idea, is it?” Rantarou said with a chuckle. “Ouma-kun, Iruma-san, you two wouldn’t mind traveling with me, would you?”

 

Miu huffed, the air blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Fine. I guess Tittygane just wants us out of her way.”

 

“Don’t act like Ouma-kun.”

 

Kokichi whirled around to him with his jaw unhinged. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Do our decades of being with each other mean nothing?”

 

“It’s been  _ one _ year.”

 

“Anyway, meet me in the food court for lunch at noon,” Tsumugi said after glancing down at her watch. “I would prefer it if you stay together, but you don’t have to. Remember to keep your phone on in case I call you. Always keep a bottle of water with you. And no, Ouma-kun, Panta doesn’t count as water.”

 

“Relax,  _ Mom. _ ” Kokichi dodged a swat from Tsumugi before taking off down the hall, prompting Miu and Rantarou to run and scream after him.

 

Tsumugi bit back a laugh as she watched them push their way down the hall and blend into the crowd. A few seconds passed before they had completely disappeared from her view.

 

Well, there was no use in staying, right?

 

Tsumugi pulled the list of events out of her bag and walked, her heart knowing where everything was located.

 

Three keychains and one panel later, noon had arrived. Tsumugi stepped out of the panel room, her heart racing and her face stretched into a grin. The panel on costume design was one of the most exhilarating experiences she had ever taken part in. She had even met a few of the people she followed online, who happened to be other BNFs, and they had spent the time before the panel started chatting and formally introducing themselves to each other.

 

Now, she walked out with two of them by her side, laughing at a meme the person to Tsumugi’s left had brought up. Their laughter faded out until it completely died at the sight of one person.

 

Tsumugi’s face paled at the all too familiar sight of the person who had gone con to con glomping her favorite characters and even stalking a few of them well after the con ended. Horror stories had been shared by people who caught her stealing their clothes and insisting on calling them by a character’s name. That person was banned from most conventions. It was a wonder security hadn’t caught her yet.

 

“Is that… Is that Brutea?” the person to the right of Tsumugi whispered.

 

Just as Tsumugi nodded, the aforementioned Brutea caught their eye and gasped. “Ryoko-chan! I knew you would visit me soon!”

 

Tsumugi winced and could only barely hear her online mutuals telling her to run or feel the way they pushed her in the opposite direction.  _ No, this isn’t happening right now. I came here to have fun, not to get chased by someone I’ve only heard in legends. _

 

Reality set in when Brutea ran towards her.

 

Tsumugi took off in the opposite direction, her bags and long wig trailing behind her. All thoughts were erased as a heavy panic buzzed throughout her body and boosted her forward as she weaved through the crowd. The scenery blended around her, but she knew the building by heart (though she wasn’t sure how her screaming heart would help now). Above all the chaos was one instinct:

 

_ Call them. _

 

Tsumugi dug her phone out of her pocket without pausing in her steps and scrolled through her contacts.  _ Abra. Adams. Akira.  _ **_Amami._ **

 

Her fingers tapped on the call button. She held it up to her phone, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting for someone to _ help her _ —

 

“Hello? Shirogane-san? Where are you?”

 

Tsumugi’s heart felt as if it could explode from relief. “W-West wing”—She paused to gasp in more air—“R-Running. Running, running, running.”

 

“The food court is nearby. Stay where you are. We’ll be there soo—”

 

“No…! Can’t stay! Ch-Chase!”

 

“Got it. We’re on the way.”

 

Tsumugi kept running, her feet hitting the floor in increasingly desperate attempts to get away.  _ Don’t look behind you, don’t look behind you, don’t look behind you— _

 

Brutea was right behind her.

 

“Hey! Fuck do you think you’re doing!” 

 

Tsumugi’s knees buckled just as three familiar people pushed Brutea back. Warmth enveloped her upper body.

 

Familiar. Warm. Friends.  _ Family.  _ Was she safe now?

 

When her vision finally focused, a crowd had gathered around Brutea, Miu, and Rantarou. Miu’s face was wrinkled into an angry scowl. The glare on Rantarou’s face could make even the most fearless people shudder. It was the most intense Tsumugi had seen either of them.

 

Tsumugi’s heart fell. It was her fault. It was all her fault they needed to stick up for someone like her—

 

“You’re fine, Shirogane-chan,” Kokichi mumbled, resting her head in the crook of his neck and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “You’re fine. You’ll  _ be _ fine. You’re safe now, I promise.”

 

The buzz of panic had lessened at the words, and she leaned into the touch. For now, all she could do was watch.

 

“Who the hell do you think you are, harassing my tough, strong, badass friend until she literally ran away from you?” Miu growled, pointing a thumb down. 

 

Brutea whimpered and took a step back. “I was only trying to get to my friend, Ryoko-chan. It’s not like I was doing any harm.”

 

“Bitch, what the fuck do you mean ‘not doing any—’”

 

“She doesn’t know you,” Rantarou said, keeping his icy stare steady. “As far as she knew, she was being chased by a stranger. That’s terrifying, in case you didn’t know already.”

 

“B-But…” Brutea’s lower lip trembled. “Ryoko-chan’s my friend.”

 

“Judging by the way you say that honorific, you don’t know how to use it. Ryoko is a fictional character, too. Please leave our sister alone.”

 

“S-Sister? Ryoko-chan doesn’t have three siblings in canon.”

 

Then Kokichi smiled. And smiled. And smiled more until the ends of his lips had gone up too far to ever be scrubbed from Tsumugi’s mind, and a purple sheen had fallen over his eyes and lips. “Hey, _ bitch _ , this is a real-life human being we’re talking about right now, not one of your pathetic fictional characters. If you can’t tell the difference between reality and fiction, then you have a much bigger problem than worrying about who  _ your precious Ryoko-chan _ is hanging out with. Oh, by the way, she’s not yours.” His face was wiped clean of any expression, and his grip on Tsumugi tightened. “She’s hers and no one else’s. Back the fuck off.”

 

An inhuman scream ripped the air, and Brutea rushed forward. Miu blocked her path before she could get too far while Rantarou grabbed her wrists, passing her off to the security guards that had been called earlier. They watched with crossed arms and stern faces as she was kicked out of the convention before running towards Tsumugi. The crowd dissipated, some clapping, and left a space around them.

 

“Shirogane-san, are you okay?” Rantarou asked, holding a hand out to her.

 

Miu scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What a stupid fucking bitch. I hope she gets run over by a truck and spends the rest of her life in a coma without becoming a genius like me.”

 

“That’s… a bit much,” Tsumugi said. She mustered up a smile. “But yes, I’m fine now. Thank you.”

 

“Why did you guys make me have to comfort her?” Kokichi asked with a pout. “ _ I _ wanted to rip into that bitch too, you know. I didn’t wanna get stuck with this job.”

 

Miu knocked on his head with her fist. “Hello, anyone in there? It was your choice, moron.”

 

“Nishishi! A lie a day keeps the doctor away.” He paused to fix Tsumugi’s wig. “Do you want to leave?”

 

Tsumugi shook her head. “I still want to have fun here. Can we just… stick together this time?”

 

“Sure!” Kokichi pulled her up before climbing onto her back. “Let’s go, my humble steed!”

 

Rantarou carried her merchandise in his arms. “I’ll hold onto this. You can break your back with him.”

 

“Rude.”

 

Tsumugi giggled before securing him on her back, her panic being replaced with the warmth only her friends could provide. “I’ve carried heavier for some of the mech cosplays I’ve done. Should we get some lunch now?”

 

“Fucking finally.” Miu hesitated before grabbing onto the loose fabric of Tsumugi’s brown jacket. “And just so we’re clear, there’s a sale on Astro cake, and I’m buying. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Iruma-san, you don’t need to—”

 

“ _ Nothing _ , asshole. Shut the fuck up.”

 

Tsumugi stared at her for a few seconds before beaming. “Thank you, Iruma-san. You too, Ouma-kun, Amami-kun.”

 

The other three mumbled out a variety of answers. They walked towards the food court, sharing their experiences with each other and cracking jokes.

 

Tsumugi watched them, her eyes and heart glowing. As depressing as it was to think about, this wasn’t the first time someone had chased her. She knew she should have gone straight to a security guard and reported the chaser. But she wondered…

 

Why had her first instinct been to call her friends?

 

She supposed it didn’t matter. Maybe she could really depend on these three idiots by her side.

 

Her beliefs were affirmed when she saw Miu leaning forward and yelling at a laughing Kokichi while Rantarou tried to calm her down, only to be pushed aside.

 

They never ended up attending that two o’clock panel.

 

*

 

As the leader of the robotics club, Miu had responsibilities. Those responsibilities included making sure everything is packed, asking her teammates how many people they’re bringing to their competition, and generally being stressed. Her teammates knew this and frequently used her responsibilities to their advantage. She had been in the middle of watching someone else’s robot when someone asked her a question.

 

“Hey, Miss Iruma? How come you’ve never brought someone to any competitions? Do you not have loved ones?”

 

Miu froze, her pencil clattering onto the table. She regained her composure and picked it up again. “That got serious real fucking quick. What makes you say that?”

 

“You always get really distant during competitions and never come to family nights. I was just wondering if—”

 

“Of course I have a family! They’re just always busy.”

 

The student gave her a blank stare. “Really? Who are they?”

 

Oh, it was a competition now, wasn’t it? Logically, she knew the student was just curious, but there was no time for logic when her insecurities were rearing their heads.

 

Miu described the first people that came to mind. “Well, first of all, I have this really nice mom that can probably kick anyone’s ass. Then there’s my little bitch of a brother, who can also probably kick your ass. And then I have a big brother, who can easily kick your ass. All of them can kick your ass, so you’d better shut the fuck up.”

 

The student seemed unperturbed by her cursing. “Then why don’t you bring them to the next competition?”

 

“Maybe I will. Fuck off.” Miu stormed away into the empty storage closet. 

 

Now that she was away from the situation, she realized she was a screwed son of a bitch. She didn’t have any siblings, and she didn’t know who her mother was. Nonexistent people couldn’t kick other people’s asses (as she had learned a few years ago during an experiment involving electricity, food offerings, and many, many bad decisions). 

 

There was only one group of people she knew that could even remotely be called a family. She took out her phone and tapped on the screen.

 

**GreatestInventor:** hey fuckers wanna come to my robotics comp

**PantaLord:** eh. What's in it for us

**GreatestInventor** : getting to help me prove a bitch wrong

**SHSLCosplayer** : Iruma-san. What did you do?

**GreatestInventor** : so I may or may not have described you guys as my family and promised to bring my family to our next competition

**PantaLord** : awwwwwwww

**Avocado** : you’re our family too if that makes you feel any better

**SHSLCosplayer** : I don't see why not.

**Avocado** : yeah sure ill go

**PantaLord** : is there panta there

**GreatestInventor** : I mean the concessions there are fucking out of the roof expensive but I guess

**PantaLord** : ill be there

**PantaLord** : oh and btw Iruma-chan

**GreatestInventor** : what

**PantaLord** : we <3 u onee-chan

**SHSLCosplayer:** ok listen up u little shit can you shut the fuck up for one moment

**Avocado:** OHHHHH

**Avocado:** GUESS WHOS ABOUT TO GET  *R O A S T E D*

**PantaLord:** wait no mom can’t we work this out

_ SHSLCosplayer is typing… _

 

Miu signed out of the group chat before Tsumugi could finish her essay. As hilarious as it would have been to watch her tear into Kokichi, she had to fix her robot and programs.

 

The day of the competition came too soon.

 

Miu sat in the cafeteria of an unfamiliar school with her three “family members,” muttering notes to herself and fiddling with her robot.

 

The cafeteria was laughably small for the huge amount of students packed inside. The two tables specifically for testing robots were mostly ignored, as everyone just used their own tables. Miu’s table was cluttered with papers and printed out programs. Her open laptop was set to the side. Four cups were set next to each other, each for a different beverage.

 

“Man, you weren’t lying about the prices here,” Kokichi whined, emptying his recently bought panta can into a cup. “This cost me an arm and a leg.”

 

Tsumugi gave him a strange look. “All beverages cost two dollars.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Can you two shut the fuck up for one moment?” Miu growled, “I’m trying to fix my robot. Wait… it might be something with the programs that’s fucking it all up.” She switched her focus to her laptop, her fingers slamming down on the keyboard.

 

Just as she finished uploading the new program onto her robot, her phone alarm went off, indicating the beginning of her competition. She cursed, turned off her alarm, and turned her phone off before storming to the gym, where the competition was being held.

 

Miu placed her robot on the gameboard. She froze upon hearing a voice.

 

_ “Hey, isn’t that Miu Iruma from our rival school?” _

 

Another voice joined in.  _ “Yeah. Her robot looks pathetic though.” _

 

_ “I heard no one came to support her.” _

 

_ “Of course they didn’t. Who would?” _

 

Miu crumpled under the taunting voices. It felt as if she was falling, the uncertainty of her ability pressing down on her heart until she couldn’t breathe. The familiar grip of panic had returned.

 

It took Miu a good minute to figure out those voices were her own thoughts.

 

“Go, Iruma-san!” A familiar set of voices reached out to her, pulling her out from under her own doubts and fears. Another voice said, “If you lose, you have to buy me a can of Panta!”

 

Miu didn’t know which was worse: disappointing her friends or having to buy the shitty brat a soda. But she wasn’t going to lose. She licked her lips and smiled at her robot.

 

When the announcer blew the whistle, Miu pushed the middle button and watched as her robot went through the obstacles, praying that it wouldn’t bump into anything.

 

Past one hoop.

 

Past two walls.

 

Past a moving block.

 

Until it bumped into the  _ goddamn lego child. _

 

Her heart jumped up into her throat, and tears burned in her eyes. She was such a failure, how could she not achieve such an easy task, how could she disappoint her friends— _ no.  _ They would never be disappointed in her for something like this. She needed to think clearly.

 

Miu took a deep breath and glanced back at the clock. She had three minutes left. Touching the robot would result in a loss of points. She knew that she had the program ready to use if she touched it. Normally, she wouldn’t even think about getting the touch penalty, but…

 

She glanced up at her smiling friends.

 

Miu grabbed the robot and set it on the right course before activating the program and stepping back. This time, the course went smoothly and returned to her just in time.

 

After the scores were written down, everyone was dismissed to the cafeteria.

 

Miu hugged her robot as she returned to the cafeteria, the uncertainty in her heart disappearing. That had gone better than she thought it would have, but she still needed to be better. She plopped down in her chair and fixed the program accordingly.

 

Rantarou blinked. “Hey, Iruma-san, shouldn’t you take a break after that? Your next round is in four hours, after all.”

 

“No time,” Miu mumbled, eyes glued to the screen. “I pretty much failed that one. Gotta place for my team.”

 

“But it’s time for lunch.”

 

“Lay off, bitch, I know what I’m doing.”

 

“I’m not doubting that. You just need to eat something before you keel over. You mentioned that you skipped breakfast to work on your programs, too.”

 

Miu sighed and whipped around to him with the most ferocious scowl she could muster (judging by Kokichi’s snickers, it wasn’t as scary as she would have liked). “You don’t fucking understand, Dickmami. If I don’t place at least top five, our school doesn’t move on to nationals. How fucking disappointing would it be if we spent all the damn school year preparing for the competition, but we don’t even make it to nationals?”

 

“Nationals are pretty hard to make it into. I don’t think anyone would blame you, Iruma-san,” Tsumugi said.

 

“But as the fucking  _ leader _ of the robotics club, they kinda expect me to. And they only made me leader because I’m the best out of all of them. If I don’t place, they’ll just make fun of me.” Her mouth clamped into a whimper, and the panic rushed back in. Why couldn’t they understand? Did they want to mock her? “I bet you’re all gonna make fun of me too, you bastards! I bet you all think I’m stupid just because I cheated with you!”

 

“... Oh. Is that what this is about?” Rantarou asked, turning to the side. He gripped his chin and stared at her, shadows covering the top half of his face. If Miu wasn’t so angry, she might have found the sense to actually be scared. “You’re scared that people will make fun of you for not making it to nationals?”

 

“Especially us?” Tsumugi asked, reeling back in surprise.

 

Kokichi’s face was wiped clean of any expression, and his voice fell to a flat monotone. “Iruma-chan. Name one, I repeat,  _ one _ time we actually made fun of you for failing at something.”

 

Miu opened her mouth to reply but found that she couldn’t. Her worries seemed stupid, in retrospect. She shouldn’t have doubted her friends’ faith in her. She shrunk back, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I-I’m sorry… Do you hate me now?”

 

Tsumugi frowned and brought a hand to her heart. “Oh, no, we could never—”

 

“Booooring,” Kokichi said, yawning. He grabbed Rantarou’s hand. “Come on, Amami-chan, let’s just ignore all those boring people and get lunch together.” He took both Tsumugi’s and Miu’s wallets before dashing towards the lunch line.

 

“Hey!” Tsumugi shot up from her seat and sped after them.

 

Miu’s gaze darted from her laptop to her stomach before she ran after her friends. “Get back here, you little bitches!”

 

Soon, all four of them stood in line together, the clink of machines and the buzz of chatter filling the air.

 

Rantarou tapped them on the shoulders and held out his phone. “Hey, I want a picture for Instagram. Can you just go into the ultimate friend poses for me?”

 

Tsumugi tilted her head and smiled while Kokichi morphed his face into something none of them could ever unsee, and Miu held up a trusty middle finger.

 

When she looked back at the photo, she couldn’t help but notice that for the first time in her robotics career, there weren’t tear tracks running down her cheeks.

 

*

 

The majority of Kokichi’s childhood was a blur. His memories from the first decade of his life were completely gone, and all he could remember from the first two years of high school was him floating through life. Whenever he turned around after meeting a life achievement, there was no one behind him. Not a friend, not a family member, not an acquaintance.

 

“Ouma-kun, what’s with that look on your face?”

 

Kokichi was pulled out of his thoughts by a familiar figure walking towards him. He plastered a grin on his face. “What look, Amami-chan? You mean  _ this  _ look?” He stretched his grin with his fingers.

 

Miu chuckled. “Looks like a virgin spreading a vagina.”

 

Tsumugi sighed and stuffed a scoop of her vanilla ice cream into Miu’s mouth. “We don’t mean that, but it’s okay if you don’t want to tell us.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Miu mumbled, letting the ice cream melt in her mouth.

 

“I swear to god, if you make a cum joke, I’m kicking you out of my house,” Rantarou said, stabbing his ice cream with his spoon.

 

Miu stuck her tongue out. “Fuck you, I can make as many cum jokes as I want.” She recited her full collection of innuendos the other three could only presume she had fervently studied beforehand.

 

Kokichi looked around the room, taking in the scene of Miu laughing hysterically while Rantarou scanned the area for any sign of his sisters and Tsumugi sighed and shook her head. His eyes drank everything in because he had learned from an early age that at any moment, he could lose everything.

 

But when he blinked, they were still there.

 

Kokichi was lucky. He was so, so lucky.

 

And so he scooped his own ice cream onto his spoon, smiled, and flung it at Miu, who screeched and retaliated by throwing her entire bowl at him. Tsumugi’s face glowed as she flicked multiple spoons of ice cream at them while Rantarou sighed and grabbed a pack of paper towels, already preparing for cleanup.

 

Even as a ball of ice cream splattered on his face, Kokichi smiled.

 

He was with his best friends, and there was nothing the world could do about it.

 

*

 

Kokichi’s gaze darted between three pairs of eyes. “So… looks like we all signed up for the HPU tour.”

 

“Yeah, no shit, idiot,” Miu growled, her hands on her hips. “Why the fuck do you think a bunch of shitty ass high schoolers are standing around in this fucking field at the ass crack of dawn at a giant ass building?”

 

A few people around them gave Miu a wary glance and stepped away from her.

 

Tsumugi gave them a polite smile before returning her attention to Miu. “Iruma-san, it’s nine in the morning.”

 

“Still.”

 

Rantarou tapped them on the shoulder. “Guys, I think the thing’s about to—”

 

“Welcome to Hope’s Peak University!” a man announced through a megaphone. He smiled sheepishly upon seeing the students wince at the volume. He adjusted a button on the megaphone before saying, “Sorry, this is my cousin’s. I’m not quite sure how to use it.

 

“I’m Hajime Hinata, and I’ll be your tour guide for today,” Hajime said, “As the program described, you will be taking a tour around campus and inside some of the buildings. We will hold a questioning session at the end, but feel free to ask questions at any time. Now, let’s get started.” He led the group down the stairs and turned to look at the main entrance of the university. “This is the main building of the campus. This is where you’ll find…” He continued to rattle off facts and history as he led the students around campus.

 

Miu filtered out everything he said until they reached the engineering building.

 

Hajime hesitated before sighing and pushing the door open. “Kazuichi, I’m not knocking on the door. You already knew we would be here.”

 

His friend huffed but stepped out in front of them. He winked and gave them a thumbs up. “Heya! I’m Kazuichi Souda, one of the TAs for the head of mechanical engineering, and this is the mechanical engineering building. If you’re looking to be an inventor or mechanic or something, your home will be here.”

 

Miu fought a blush down as her friends snickered and elbowed her.

 

Kazuichi continued with his presentation, walking them through the main sections of the building and describing student life.

 

It was perfect. Miu couldn’t have asked for a better facility in her wildest dreams. The rooms were big enough for her to make a mess without stabbing her toe on a loose nail. Research tools were given at the student’s request. Students were even allowed to stay overnight, as evidenced by the pair of students sleeping in the hallway. Both the facility and the student lifestyles were beautiful.

 

But was she really smart enough to join them? As far as she knew, HPU only accepted the top students in the world. There was no way she would have a chance. She didn’t even know how applications worked until just a week ago.

 

But then Miu remembered there was no shame in not knowing something. Being alive was about discovery, not clinging to useless bits of knowledge. It took her over a decade of inventing to realize that, but she was glad she did. Before she could get further in her thoughts, the tour group moved back outside. 

 

“What do you think, Iruma-san?” Rantarou whispered.

 

Miu scoffed. “Pretty shitty place, but the best one I’ve seen.”

 

“Here, I’ll translate,” Kokichi said. He pulled a frown on his face in an attempt to imitate her. “‘Hi, I’m Miu Iruma, and I can’t admit that I found a place that actually meets my ridiculously high standards.’” He ducked when Miu reached out to grab him, and Miu would have said a few choice words had the tour group not moved on.

 

After a stop to the cafeteria and a few other areas, they made their way to the arts departments. They passed through the visual and auditory arts before they reached the fashion department.

 

Hajime sighed and mumbled under his breath before knocking on the door. “Hey, we’re here!”

 

Five seconds passed before the door was answered by a woman with her hair tied into two large pigtails. She shot them a peace sign and a grin. “Welcome to Hope’s Peak University! I’m Junko Enoshima, the resident fashionista. I’ll, like, show you around the building and stuff like that. How’s that sound?”

 

A few tired murmurs emerged from the crowd.

 

She stomped her foot and clenched her fists. “I said, how does that fucking sound?”

 

The student body piped up, frantically cheering and applauding.

 

Her face returned to its normal smile. “Then let’s get going!”

 

Despite the earlier scene, Tsumugi found herself captivated with the building. The fashion department may have been small, but with that smallness came a sense of community that Junko had demonstrated by stopping to talk to nearly everyone that crossed their path (Hajime had been slightly pissed at the delay, but that seemed par for the course). People scurried around carrying parts of mannequins and piles of fabric. They smiled at the students as they rushed by, their backpacks nearly unzipped from all the materials they were carrying around. Tsumugi loved everything about it, from the mentioned courses to the student culture.

 

Her insecurities hit her all at once, knocking the wind out of her. Would those students like her for who she was? What character did she need to play now?

 

But then she remembered she didn’t need to drop into a fictional world when a real world was already waiting for her. People in real life would care for her real personality, not the amalgamation of characters she had been hiding behind for years. Three people have proved that to her.

 

It appeared those same three people had noticed, as they snuck glances at her while whispering to each other.

 

“You aren’t slick,” Tsumugi whispered, yet they rolled their eyes and continued to whisper.

 

_ Assholes. _

 

“Yeah, thanks for the tour, Junko,” Hajime grumbled. He slammed the door in her face before she could respond, earning a few chuckles from the student body. “I don’t really like her. Let’s just move onto the sciences.”

 

“Your shitty building’s not here, Cuckma,” Miu said, “It’s not a real science. It doesn’t deserve the title.” The slight twitch of the ends of her lips indicated that she was joking, but Kokichi was too busy crossing his fingers to care.

 

“We’re at the political science building first,” Hajime said, running upstairs to knock on the door.

 

Kokichi snickered as Miu’s cheeks burned red at the quick correction. “Nishishi! What’s not a real science again?”

 

A short man with blonde hair wearing a black tuxedo stepped out. He addressed the students with a nod. “I’m Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, and I’m your guide for the political science building. Just so we’re clear, I don’t plan on being friendly and shit with you guys.”

 

“Hey, Iruma-chan, he sounds like you,” Kokichi whispered, holding back his laughs. 

 

Rantarou bit back a smile. “He actually does.”

 

Just as Miu turned around to slap both of them, the tour group moved inside the building.

 

Even if the tour guide was a bit rough on the edges, it was clear that he was passionate about the subject he poured years of work into. It shined through in the way he spoke, the way he walked through the halls, the way his voice changed when he talked about the course. The classrooms and faux courtrooms were well-maintained through the years the school ran. Political science, while a relatively new department, was one of the bigger departments of the campus and showed no signs of leaving.

 

But Kokichi found that the stability and building itself didn’t seal the deal for him. It was how happy the students were as they walked down the halls, rushing to their classes and complaining about their upcoming finals with no real malice in their voices. It was how they trusted themselves to make the best decisions, and they trusted each other enough to lean on them during times of stress. The sight was too familiar.

 

His gaze drifted to his friends, who cackled and pushed Kokichi further ahead.

 

Yes. It was definitely familiar.

 

The tour group was walked back outside.

 

“Thanks for the, uh, colorful descriptors, Fuyuhiko,” Hajime said, clearing his throat.

 

Fuyuhiko gave him a long stare. “Hajime, you were the guy that woke up the entire floor by yelling, ‘5:20 blaze it!’ after you finished an essay. It wasn’t even 5:20. It was six in the fucking morning.”

 

Hajime shut the door in his face, face glowing red as the tour group burst out laughing. “Okay, listen, I don’t need to justify myself. Let’s just keep going.”

 

They passed by the rest of the science buildings before reaching the social studies departments.

 

“I didn’t think geography was a part of social studies, but apparently we have a geography department, so we’re starting there first,” Hajime said. He knocked on the door.

 

A woman with long, blonde hair wearing a green dress stepped out with the elegance of a princess. “Hello, my name is Sonia Nevermind, and I am one of the teacher’s assistants for the head of the geography department. My degree is technically in international diplomacy but as they say, choosers can’t be beggars!”

 

Hajime seemed to waver between correcting her and letting it go but eventually decided to not interfere.

 

Rantarou was drawn in from the moment he walked into the building. The front area contained a reception desk and a giant map on the wall with various red pins stuck to them. The map was torn on the edges but overall seemed to be in a good condition. A box of pins was set on the wooden table in the middle of several beanbag chairs and multiple cushions placed on top of a shaggy carpet.

 

As Sonia continued with the tour, he couldn’t help but notice students frantically carrying around stacks of papers in manilla folders. Others were passed out on the floor with a blanket on them. A few sat on the chairs from before, staring off into space. One person stood up and tucked a person into a blanket before returning to their classroom. Another person took half the folders off someone’s arms and carried it with them to their class.

 

It was a beautiful sight, but Rantarou needed answers. “Miss Nevermind, may I ask you a question about the map?”

 

Sonia turned around to him with a friendly smile. “Yes. Go ahead.”

 

“What’s that map for?”

 

Her smile faded, and she took a deep breath. “Our students in the geography department are very involved in cases of missing persons. The red pins symbolize where someone was last seen, and the red strings connecting them are where that person presumably traveled.”

 

Rantarou swallowed hard and nodded, his chest pounding from the unwanted memories. “I understand. Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.” She showed the rest of the building around before the tour ended.

 

Rantarou took one last look at the map.

 

One red pin represented both a missing person and a broken heart. The string was a sad symbol of just how far away that person had been taken away from their loved ones, either by choice or not. If there was even a small chance that he could bring happiness back to one person’s life, he would gladly take it.

 

Was that what he wanted to do with his life? It certainly seemed like it.

 

It was at that point when Rantarou realized his friends were staring at him in concern. He shot them a quick smile to reassure them he was fine before moving onto the rest of the tour.

 

The tour continued for another hour before they had returned to the same spot they were in before.

 

Hajime scanned the audience. “So that’s the majority of the campus. Does anyone have any questions?”

 

A few students asked several typical questions before Miu finally gathered the courage to raise her own hand. Her friends pushed it up higher, further than she was comfortable with, but there was no going back now that Hajime had called on her.

 

Miu’s eyes darted around before she asked, “Is it… What are the students like here? Not student life, just the people.” In a quieter voice, she mumbled, “Is it really okay for people like me to be here?”

 

Hajime paused, closing his eyes. He opened them again with a sigh. “Listen, I’m not going to bullshit you on this and say that everyone’s nice. You saw Fuyuhiko. We have a girl in the writing department who barely leaves her house and was cryptid of the year at one point. There’s another guy who walks around impersonating other people so much we just decided to call him the Imposter. The thing is that HPU doesn’t scout students based on grades; It’s based on performance to your claimed major. That’s what makes this school so weird but so good.” He called on another student.

 

The four of them locked eyes.

 

And that was when they fell in love. Not with a person, but with a future that was attainable, a future that made them happy, a future they actually looked forward to. They fell in love with the way they didn’t wake up with hopelessness and the longing for the cycle to end weighing on their chests the moment they woke up. And most importantly, they fell in love with the idea that they had so much more to live for than they had just a year ago.

 

So when the tour ended, each of them grabbed an application for the future they craved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amami sisters: As said in the beginning note, all names were created using a name generator.
> 
> Chase after Tsumugi: Brutea was created using a random username generator. While this event was based off a real-life horror story I heard, please don't let it scare you from cons if you plan on going. Events like these are far from the norm.
> 
> Astro cake: It seems to be in all the ndrv3 characters' liked presents lists... what even is astro cake i dont know
> 
> Robotics Competition: I based these off my own experiences. I was in the research team of my robotics team so I didn't interact much with the robots, but I always watched the tournaments. The goal was to move your robot past obstacles to score points, but only a few of the programs worked when we actually got there. It was terrible and glorious.
> 
> Touch penalty: At our robotics competitions, you got points docked off if you touched the robot in areas that weren't designated. It was a pretty hefty penalty so if our robot crashed into something, we just had to stay there and stare at it until it did something or time ran out...
> 
> Concessions at competitions: Concessions weren't quite two dollars, but they were still overpriced.
> 
> College tour: Don't listen to me, I have no clue how college tours work. 
> 
> Please let me know if you have any questions!


	5. Senior Year: Failure, Bracelets, Playgrounds, Homes, Gifts, Phones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.”

Senior year: the home stretch. The last year of high school before they moved onto the next phase of their life and the year they had utmost superiority over the school. But no matter what year they were in or how mature they thought they were, the first day of school was always reserved for freaking out over schedules.

 

Four sheets of schedules were placed side-by-side on the cafeteria tables as four pairs of eyes scanned its contents, following the lines boxes. Tension was heavy in the air until four people collectively let out a sigh of relief.

 

“Nishishi! Looks like the cheating ring is back in session,” Kokichi said, stuffing his schedule into his almost-empty backpack. A composition notebook, whiteboard, and pencil case were the only things present in his bag.

 

Rantarou raised an eyebrow at the presence of a whiteboard over something more appropriate like a binder but decided to let it go. He sighed and folded his schedule back up into crisp, tiny squares before pocketing it. “I can’t believe we actually have all the same classes together. Aren’t we on different pathways?”

 

“Are you complaining?” Miu growled, snatching her schedule back. She crumpled it up before thinking better of it and laying it flat on the table, taking a picture of it to set as her lock screen. She crumpled it into a compact ball again. The ball was tossed into a nearby trashcan, earning half-hearted applause from some of the surrounding students. “It should be a fucking honor to be in all the same classes as me, you damn avocado!”

 

“You’re seriously complaining about my username after a whole year?”

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty lame,” Kokichi said, looking down at his fingernails. He glanced back up at Tsumugi. “Hey, Shirogane-chan, you haven’t been talking much lately.”

 

Tsumugi blinked and rubbed her eyes. Her fingers were red. “Sorry, I just stayed up last night writing college apps. My reach wants me to send them some of my work in the mail, so I had to finish sewing something. I just barely finished it this morning.”

 

Rantarou shook his head. “You probably shouldn’t be doing that when you’re sleep-deprived, you know.”

 

“You geography normies would never understand.”

 

“It’s the exact same thing for mechanical engineering,” Miu added, “Can you fucking believe they want me to send one of my babies through the mail? That shit’s way too big and metal to not be stopped and inspected for bombs.” She pointed a finger at Kokichi. “I bet your pansy ass major didn’t require anything special.”

 

Kokichi leaned forward and bit her finger.

 

Rantarou scanned the website pulled up on his phone while Miu screeched and flailed her arms. “Apparently political science majors have to construct an original government and conduct an in-person interview where they roleplay as advisors for a government official.” He downloaded a file and whistled.

 

Tsumugi looked over his shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Ten points off for hesitating? That’s brutal.”

 

Kokichi released Miu’s finger and smirked at her. “See, Iruma-chan? I have a major requirement, too.”

 

“Seeing as how you  _ bit my fucking finger _ , you’re not gonna do so well on that,” Miu grumbled, holding her limp finger.

 

“You enjoyed it.”

 

Rantarou and Tsumugi crossed their fingers before their hopes were completely destroyed by Miu looking away and muttering, “... I did.”

 

“I’m kinkshaming,” Tsumugi mumbled. She took her schedule back and inserted it into a blue folder labeled “Homework” in neat, loopy handwriting. “Anyway, we should probably head to our classes now.”

 

The other three agreed and bounded up the stairs together, ready to face the new year with each other by their sides.

 

*

 

It was only the first month of senior year, and their teacher was already ten minutes late.

 

The class had no qualms about it, most of the students either playing on their phones or completing their homework from the previous class. A few others in the back row laid their heads down to sleep. The room was completely silent.

 

“You know,” Kokichi started, “If the teacher’s ten minutes late, we’re legally allowed to leave.”

 

“No, we’re not,” Tsumugi said, rolling her eyes. “That’s a myth.”

 

“How do you know it’s a myth if you’ve never tried?”

 

Just as Tsumugi frowned and opened her mouth to refute, their teacher walked into the room carrying a stack of papers and a cup of coffee. He set everything on his desk with a huff. “Okay, class, so my dog may or may not have literally eaten your homework.”

 

Half the class clamored for dog pictures while the other half groaned.

 

“I’m just counting it as a hundred for all of you, so you don’t have to worry about your grade. Now, clear your desk. Even if I didn’t get to grade your homework, we still have a pop quiz to do.”

 

The class huffed and accepted their fate, but four pairs of eyes met and narrowed.

 

A pop quiz on the homework they didn’t get a chance to look over and actually see what they missed and didn’t understand? That didn’t seem fair in the slightest.

 

Miu pointed her middle finger up, Tsumugi tapped her foot, Rantarou tapped his finger, and Kokichi scratched the table.

 

They stared at each other before nodding towards Miu and Rantarou.

 

They turned their backs to each other as soon as the teacher began passing out the papers, trusting in each other that they will find a way. They had two seconds of preparation, but that was all they needed. 

 

The first problem came when none of them specified how they would be able to tell what question they were on.

 

When Miu raised the signal, the other three sent her raised eyebrows and confused stares. She sighed and tapped her finger against her arm three times.

 

Rantarou looked down at his paper. After seeing that the quiz was only ten questions, he concluded that she was most likely asking for the answer to question three and tapped twice for B.

 

It appeared that neither of the other two had come to the same conclusion.

 

Tsumugi had only heard two of the taps and responded with four taps for D, and Kokichi was probably just trying to fuck with them by tapping six times. But upon looking down at his paper and seeing that an answer choice was AB, he realized that Kokichi was not fucking around.

 

Miu looked around before settling on Rantarou’s answer.

 

_ Okay. Crisis averted,  _ Rantarou thought before he realized he was stuck on the next question. He flagged down the attention of his partners in crime and tapped the desk five times. He then learned just how difficult it was to be on the receiving end when he got three different answers back, Tsumugi tapping once, Miu tapping twice, and Kokichi tapping five times. After a long exchange of confused stares, he settled on Kokichi’s answer and moved on.

 

The next problem came when the teacher stood up and walked in front of another student’s desk. He snatched the phone out of the student’s hands and ripped up the quiz sheet before returning to his desk.

 

The students collectively shared a moment of complete silence for their fallen fighter, and it became clear that the four of them weren’t the only ones cheating on the pop quiz. Another student in the back corner had resorted to using their phone to look up answers, and two other students had slightly adjusted their papers to face one another. Some of the other students in the row ahead of them had a group chat dedicated to sharing answers. Since one student had been caught, the teacher would undoubtedly be paying closer attention to the students.

 

That meant the middle finger signal was out of the question. The only signal they were left with was staring at each other and hoping someone would notice. It also meant that tapping was gone; It was too obvious and too common of a method.

 

Three pairs of eyes followed Kokichi, who tapped his feet on the floor and kicked Tsumugi, who sat beside him. Tsumugi scowled for a split second before removing all expression from her face and kicking him back twice.

 

Rantarou and Miu watched their feet interact before looking back at their papers. They would have to split into two to avoid suspicion.

 

And here came the third problem: Neither Rantarou nor Miu knew the answer to question eight.

 

They sent desperate looks to Kokichi and Tsumugi, only to see that they’ve already turned their papers in early. Kokichi and Tsumugi walked back together from turning their papers in and stared at Miu and Rantarou before realizing they had left their friends to fend for themselves. Tsumugi gave them a helpless shrug while Kokichi bit his lip and fought to keep his laughter in. They sat back down, working on the next assignment.

 

Miu sent a frantic glance to Rantarou, and the message was clear:

 

_ We’re  _ **_fucked._ **

 

Rantarou took in a sharp breath before letting it go, his shoulders relaxing. He shrugged and faced his own paper. It was useless trying to cheat if neither of the two cheaters knew the answer.

 

Miu seemed to have gotten the message and hung her head as she filled in the rest of the quiz. She stood up and smacked Kokichi behind the head before turning the quiz in.

 

Rantarou turned his quiz in a few minutes after her despite finishing at the same time. He smiled.  _ Old habits die hard, I guess. _

 

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. The other students turned in their quizzes and hurried out the door, complaining about their grades. The four followed them out, two of them chatting animatedly and the other two hanging their heads in shame.

 

*

 

“Alright,” Miu said as she stormed into the commons. She slammed her books on the table, earning a flinch from Tsumugi and Rantarou. “We’ve waited your bullshit three tests in. Can we just fucking cheat already? I hate our stupid ass teachers.”

 

Kokichi shook his head and wagged his finger. “Be patient, Iruma-chan. All of this has a purpose.”

 

“Purpose, my ass. Like what?”

 

“Like how we have a geography test tomorrow, and all the answers on the study guide always match the answers on the test,” Rantarou said, his eyes glued to the pages of his book.

 

“Wait, what?” Miu snatched the book away from him. “And your book was upside-down, dumbass. If you’re going to pretend to not be interested in the conversation, at least do it right.”

 

Rantarou grabbed his book back with a chuckle. “Fine, you caught me. I was planning on making bracelets for us.”

 

“That’s it? That’s your genius plan?”

 

“I mean, better than what happened last time, right?”

 

Miu shriveled at the memory and cleared her throat. She sent a quick glare at a snickering Kokichi. “Right. How about you, Shittygane?”

 

Tsumugi stared off into space, lost in her thoughts.

 

“Hey, Shirotitty, whatcha up to?” Miu tapped her shoulder. Again, no response. “Cuntogane, listen up!”

 

“Getting increasingly creative with your nicknames isn’t going to help,” Rantarou said.

 

Finally, Tsumugi rejoined the conversation with sparkles in her eyes. “Oh, you know what you should do? You should match the bracelet colors with everyone’s color schemes!”

 

A pause.

 

Then Miu slowly said, “That’s gotta be the shittiest idea I’ve ever heard.”

 

“Hey, it’s a decent idea,” Rantarou countered, his eyes scanning the table. “So Shirogane-san’s wearing the anime school uniform she made—”

 

“I’ll have you know that it’s my own creation and took me months to perfect,” Tsumugi huffed, pulling her blue blazer closer to her.

 

“Iruma-san and I are wearing the school’s actual uniform, and Ouma-kun is…” He looked up. “Ouma-kun, why are you still wearing the middle school uniform?”

 

Miu snickered, ignoring Kokichi’s mouthed threats. “The high school uniforms were too big for a shitty midget like him. They don’t come in any children’s sizes.”

 

“Seriously? You’re making fun of me for something I can’t control?” Kokichi’s eyes filled with tears. “You probably like to torture me like this, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah. You knew the answer to that question. Why did you even ask?”

 

“I don’t know either.”

 

Rantarou sighed and shook his head. “Okay, so Ouma-kun’s still in the middle school uniform. I’ll have these done by tonight.”

 

“Oh, and by the way, Amami-kun,” Tsumugi called.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can you send the color schemes to me? I have to do something with them.”

 

“What would that be?”

 

“It’s a surprise.”

 

Rantarou stared at her before shrugging. “Yeah, sure.”

 

Miu opened her mouth to speak up before freezing and hunching her back. She looked away, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Actually, can you give them to me, too? I might do something with them.”

 

“What are you gonna do, masturbate to colors?” Kokichi snorted. “Also, can you just send it to all of us? I’ve got a plan.”

 

“That’s the most cryptic thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’m honestly a little scared, but fine,” Rantarou said, pulling out his phone. He skipped past his sleep tracker app and made a reminder for himself to send out the color schemes.

 

“I’d argue it isn’t,” Tsumugi said, “Remember the Panta incident?”

 

“We don’t speak of the Panta incident,” Kokichi hissed, putting a hand over Tsumugi’s mouth. He retracted his hand and wiped it on the table. “Ew! Did you just lick my hand? Come on, Shirogane-chan, that’s  _ my _ move!”

 

Their laughter continued even after the bell rang. The students in the commons dispersed to their classes, including the four bound by plans and laughter.

 

*

 

The next day before school started, Rantarou burst into the commons, sweating as he carried three bracelets in his hand and one around his wrist. The usual energetic luster in his eyes was replaced with sheer panic, and his face was a color they never knew existed. He set his backpack on the table and plopped onto his seat, panting.

 

The other three stared at him before exchanging a series of raised eyebrows. What should they do? Would he be okay? What happened? Did they even want to know?

 

Eventually, Miu settled on a question for them. Her voice was uncertain and low as she asked, “Uh, you okay there?”

 

Rantarou passed out the bracelets before passing out on the table himself. 

 

“That’s… That’s nice,” Tsumugi said, patting him on the head and retracting that hand upon feeling the sweat collected on his scalp. She leaned down to peer below his mop of hair and at his face. “I think he’s dead.”

 

“I’m not dead,” Rantarou said, holding his head up. “My sisters caught me making them and tried to mess with me by stealing them. I had to chase them around the house, and I had to walk here.”

 

“Tough luck, normie.”

 

“Yeah. Anyway, I should probably explain everything.” Rantarou pointed at the corresponding colors on his own bracelet. “The darkest color is A, and the lightest color is D. The black bead stands for the beginning of the answers. The white bead stands for the end of the answers.”

 

Kokichi held his bracelet up with a tight smile. “But almost all of my bracelet is white.”

 

“Tough luck, kid.”

 

Right when Kokichi’s face scrunched as if he was about to unload another barrage of fake tears, the bell rang. The other three rushed to the stairs as Kokichi laughed and ran after them.

 

*

 

There was no need to sit together this time, but they clustered in the back corner anyway, chatting and poking each other with pencils. Other students filtered in one by one until the entire class had filled the classroom.

 

The teacher stood up, holding a stack of papers. “Okay, class, we’re taking a test today. Clear your desks and take out a pencil.”

 

The students cleared their desks while the teacher began to pass out the tests.

 

As soon as the teacher reached Rantarou’s table, she pointed at his bracelet with a smile. “I like your bracelet, Amami. It suits you.”

 

“Thank you,” Rantarou said, smiling back with a sheepish chuckle. 

 

Miu, Tsumugi, and Kokichi moved their hands under their desks to hide their wrists before the teacher passed the rest of their papers out. When the teacher sat down at her desk, they pulled their wrists up and set their bracelets in position.

 

Rantarou was the first to be done, only checking his bracelet for the last few questions. He turned in his paper and returned to his seat.

 

Around twenty minutes later, Miu turned in her paper next.

 

Tsumugi followed her five minutes later.

  
The only person who seemed to have trouble with the bracelet was Kokichi, who struggled to find the starting and ending white bead among the sea of white beads. He looked up and sent a disapproving glare to Rantarou, who only shrugged in response.

 

Finally, Kokichi turned his test in just as the bell rang. He exited the classroom with Tsumugi and Miu by his side.

 

Rantarou slung his backpack over his shoulder and took a step forward to leave but was stopped by the teacher.

 

“Hey, Amami, can I say something?”

 

Rantarou turned around, fighting to keep his posture relaxed. He plastered a carefree smile on his face and prayed that the teacher couldn’t hear his heart pounding. “Yes?”

 

“I used to make friendship bracelets for my friends all the time,” the teacher said, her eyes clouded with nostalgia. “I’m glad to see that the tradition survived. Who did you give them to?”

 

“I gave them to Shirogane-san, Iruma-san, and Ouma-kun.”

 

“You guys have nicknames for each other? That’s so sweet.” She patted him on the back. “I’m glad you’re making friends, Amami.”

 

Rantarou looked down at his bracelet, a warm smile growing on his face as a similar warmth lit up his heart. “Yeah. I’m glad, too.”

 

*

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Miu repeated those words like a mantra as she paced on the gray concrete floor of her garage. She had dropped the controller of her machine into a hole in the floor that she couldn’t quite reach the bottom of. She had tried using two metal rods as tweezers, but she had only ended up digging it further into the hole. Using a lever would presumably lead to the same result.

 

_ Think, Miu, think! What other options are there? _

 

Her eyes fell on her phone.

 

No. She was  _ not  _ about to call someone to get her controller out for her. She was the great Miu Iruma, damn it! She didn’t need help from anyone!

 

She stomped, only to have her heart lurch when the controller rattled deeper into the hole.

 

While she would usually make a joke about holes and move on, she  _ really  _ needed that damn controller. She couldn’t move onto the next part of her experiment otherwise.

 

Miu took a deep breath before grabbing her phone and calling the tiniest person she knew.

 

“... Hello?”

 

“Listen up, you little abortion, I need your help with something.”

 

“What makes you think calling me an abortion would help your cause?”

 

“Fine. Ouma. Come over. I know you know my address.”

 

He hung up without a word.

 

Miu would have thought she was completely screwed if her doorbell didn’t ring a few minutes later. She pulled the door open, only to see Kokichi’s grinning face.

 

Kokichi slipped into the garage under her arm and looked around with a whistle. “Wow, this place is a mess.”

 

Miu slammed the door shut and followed him. “Don’t touch anything important, you brat.” She surged forward to block his hand from touching her blueprints. “Do you ever fucking listen to anyone?”

 

“Nope!”

 

It wasn’t even five minutes into this, and she was already regretting her life choices.

 

“Okay, listen,” Miu said, rubbing her forehead, “You see that hole in the ground? There’s a controller in there. Grab it for me and leave.”

 

Kokichi’s grin faded into a deadpan expression that would have sent chills down her spine if she wasn’t so tired. “So you called me here to get something out of a hole because your fat fingers couldn’t reach them? That’s it?”

 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

 

He studied her face, her furrowed eyebrows, the bags under her eyes, and the single gray hair brushed to the side. He gave her one last dubious glance before reaching into the hole and pulling the controller out. He held it out to Miu as if he was going to hand it to her before running off into another part of her house.

 

Miu gawked before running after him. “Ouma, you fucking dick! Get back here!”

 

“Nishishi! You should have known to never trust me, Iruma-chan, that’s your own fault.”

 

Sure, it may have partially been her fault for trusting him so easily, but it didn’t change the fact that she needed the controller. She stopped and waited for another auditory clue.

 

“Ew, the controller is wet!” Kokichi said, his disembodied voice ringing off the walls of her house. “Did you use it as a dildo or something? You have too many of them already.”

 

“Bullshit! You can never have too many dildos!” Miu shouted back. She rushed up the stairs and flung the door to her room open. “There you fucking… no, you’re not.”

 

Another laugh from downstairs.

 

She ran downstairs, only to see a flash of purple going back upstairs.

 

So  _ that’s  _ what the gremlin was doing.

 

Miu stomped her feet on the ground before Kokichi ran straight into her and collapsed on the floor. She grabbed the controller. “Ha! No one can beat the great Miu Iruma!”

 

No response.

 

Miu looked down, her confidence receding and being replaced with panic. Worry bubbled in her throat upon seeing the unmoving body. “... Ouma?”

 

Again, no response.

 

“Ouma, this shit isn’t funny. Get up.” She prodded him with her foot, only to have his fingers wrap around her ankle and her face be met with more floor than she would have liked.

 

Kokichi snickered as he swiped the controller and skipped away from her. “Nishishi! You’re so gullible, Iruma-chan. I can’t believe you fell for that again.”

 

Miu got up and moved to grab him. “You little shit! Give me the controller!”

 

“No!” Kokichi hugged the controller close to him with a pout. “Iruma-chan’s so stressed from school and inventions that she never takes a break.”

 

“Yeah, so? That’s none of your business.”

 

“Yes, it is. I won’t give you the controller until you come with me to the park for at least three hours.”

 

Miu met his challenging stare before sighing and pulling her goggles off. “Fine. But only for three hours. I have shit to d—” She had only managed to grab a box off the counter and stuff it in the most inconspicuous place she could think of before Kokichi grabbed her hand and skipped out the door, rambling about the park rules and making bets on how relaxed Miu would be.

 

Miu kept a scowl plastered on her face despite the heaviness being taken away from her heart with each step they took outside. Once they arrived at the park, the heaviness was completely gone. “You’ve got three hours. If you fuck around, I’m leaving.”

 

Kokichi turned around to her and laughed. “Nice lie, Iruma-chan, but you’re enjoying this right now. You’re smiling.”

 

Miu slapped a hand over her lip, only to feel that it was curved upwards into a grin. “Yeah, whatever. So what if I’m smiling?”

 

“No use hiding it, right?” Kokichi pried her hand away from her mouth. His eyes lit up when they reached the swing sets. “Oh! Iruma-chan, push me!”

 

Miu sat in another swing instead and smirked at Kokichi’s defeated frown.

 

They stayed in the park for the rest of the day, exchanging insults and laughing, before Kokichi held out a box.

 

“Hey, Iruma-chan, since you’re perverted and all, I thought you might enjoy this.”

 

Miu took the box from him warily. “Fuck is this?”

 

“Open it.”

 

“Are you sure it’s not a prank or somethi—”

 

“Just open it, you dirty slut.”

 

“Fine, fine.” She popped the top box open and pulled out what looked like barbed wire wrapped into a circle. “Fuck is this supposed to be?”

 

Kokichi huffed and pouted. “I guess I should have expected that from someone as dumb as you. It’s a bracelet. Two bracelets, actually.”

 

Miu responded to his explanation by slipping the circles over her head and onto her neck. She reveled in his deadpan expression and smirked. “What? I’m the best inventor in the world, I kinda  _ have _ to be creative.”

 

“Do you even know what barbed wire means, you bitch?”

 

“No, and it’s not important.”

 

“It’s symbolism for overcoming adversity and achieving goals, but I don’t expect a stupid slut like you to know that.” He looked away and crossed his arms.

 

Miu cackled before the meaning set in. Her smile disappeared. “Wait… really? You’re not fucking with me?”

 

Kokichi’s face broke into a grin. “You got me! It’s a lie!”

 

Miu pulled out her phone and typed it into a search engine. Her eyes widened, and Kokichi’s expression went flat.  “It really does mean that… You dick, you tryna say we’re friends or some shit?”

 

“Of course we’re friends, you dumbass. Why else do you think I stuck by you for a whole year now?”

 

“F-Friends?”

 

“Friends...?” Kokichi huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I guess you win this round.”

 

Miu recovered from her uncertain lapse. “Ha! Like anyone could beat the great Miu Iruma in any round.”

 

“Anyway, what was in that box you grabbed earlier?” His eyes sparkled. “Is it for me?”

 

Miu blinked and froze. “Wait, you remember that? How did you know?”

 

“I didn’t, but now I do.”

 

Miu sighed and ignored the “nishishi”s she had grown to be familiar with. She dug through the area between her breasts and pulled out the box, handing it to him.

 

Kokichi’s nose wrinkled, and he leaned away. “Ew! I don’t want something from a place that dirty.”

 

“Listen up, you lying shit, I took a shower this morning! You can’t say anything about being dirty when your entire existence exists.”

 

“Ooh, nice burn, Iruma-chan,” Kokichi sneered. He took the box from her anyway and pulled a short chain out of it. “What’s this, another one of your bondage stuff? I’m kinkshaming.”

 

“It’s not bondage, you inconsiderate fuck,” Miu growled, “You’re always the one rambling about symbolism or whatever the fuck all the time. Shouldn’t you know what a damn chain means?”

 

Kokichi paused before breaking into a smile. “Incredible strength and a bond that lasts to the end of time. Man, Iruma-chan, I never expected you to be all poetic like that.”

 

Miu looked away, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “... That’s what f-friends do, right?”

 

He paused and stared at her for a moment before his grin melted into a warm smile. “Yeah. Friends.”

 

It was the least stressed Miu could ever recall feeling. At least, until Kokichi jumped off the swingset and claimed that he was bored before dragging her somewhere else in the park.

 

Later that day when she returned home, her pencil hovered over a sticky note as she thought about the events of the day.

 

While Miu hated relaxing and feeling like she was wasting time, it hadn’t felt like she was throwing her life away when she was dragged to the park. Instead, she felt renewed, even inspired. It was a wonder how much having a friend around could change everything.

 

Friend… That was an unusual word on her tongue.

 

Miu would have thought Kokichi was joking about being friends if her fingers hadn’t brushed over the two “bracelets” she had turned into necklaces. The spikes were sharp enough to keep her on edge but too dull to actually do any damage. It was obvious that extreme care had been put into making it, and she knew him well enough by now to determine that he wouldn’t put so much care into a present for anyone that wasn’t his friend.

 

So she scribbled down one statement on the sticky note before pinning it on the wall next to her other notes:

 

_ You care about me. _

 

At the same time, Kokichi was seated in front of his whiteboard as he thought over the day’s events.

 

Even if he felt like a hypocrite telling Miu to relax for once, he couldn’t lie to himself about the pride that swelled in his chest when her smile shined brighter than he ever thought it could. He also couldn’t lie to himself about the way his heart jumped when she had called them friends. He was aware of their friendship, but it felt nice to have it reaffirmed.

 

Friendship… Is this what friendship was?

 

Kokichi’s fingers ran along the cool, smooth surface of the chain. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Miu had put a great deal of care into making it. By extension, would that mean she cared about him…?

 

Maybe, maybe not. But now, he was ready to take that risk.

 

Kokichi took a deep breath before slowly moving Miu’s cutout into the Friend circle and writing below it in black marker:

 

_ You care about me. _

 

*

 

It wasn’t often Tsumugi got in trouble with her parents, but when she did,  _ damn  _ did they go all out. And after one too many nights spent up rewatching her favorite episodes…

 

“You know what, Tsumugi? I am so sick of you and your attitude,” her mother screeched. “Take down all of your anime posters right now!”

 

“Joke’s on you, they’re all manga,” Tsumugi shot back, anger boiling in her gut. Her nails dug into her hands, and she struggled to keep her breathing steady.

 

“Take every one of your damn posters out of this house, or we’ll burn them all. Every single one! You hear me?”

 

“You won’t.”

 

“Try me.”

 

Tsumugi met her mother’s eyes and nodded, swallowing hard. “Fine. I see how it is.” She rushed up the stairs before her mother could say anything. Was she serious? She wanted her to get rid of the things most dear to her like it was nothing but trash? The thought alone was enough to make her seethe.

 

Once Tsumugi entered her room, she locked the door and grabbed every poster and other merchandise she could fit into her bag. She hesitated before grabbing a flat box off her desk and stuffing it into her bag as well. There was no way she would ever get rid of the detailed timeline of her existence, even if she was her own person now. It was too sentimental to just be thrown out like her mother was suggesting.

 

She glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. She was in the clear.

 

Tsumugi grabbed her phone and tapped on a number on her contacts list.

 

“... Hello?”

 

“Hi, normie. I’m coming over in five. You don’t have a choice.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

Tsumugi hung up before Rantarou could comprehend what was going on. She walked out of the house right past her mother, who refused to spare her a glance. A few minutes of driving later, Tsumugi arrived at Rantarou’s house. She knocked on the door twice.

 

Rantarou answered, rubbing his eyes. Parts of his hair stuck up while the other parts were flattened. Judging from his half-lidded eyes, he was probably asleep when Tsumugi called him. “Why are you here?” His gaze fell on the posters in her arms. “And what’s with the scrolls?”

 

“They’re posters. I have my manga and CDs my backpack,” Tsumugi said. Her gaze darted around. “Can I just come in? I’ll explain inside.”

 

Rantarou stepped back to let her in. He closed the door and smiled when Tsumugi plopped down on the couch as if it was hers. “I would say make yourself at home, but you seem to be doing that already.”

 

“This might as well be my home with the way my mom’s acting,” Tsumugi spat.

 

Rantarou frowned and sat down next to her. “That’s not good.”

 

“Yeah, no shit. She told me to get these out of the house or she’ll burn it.” Her grip on the posters tightened. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen. So can you take these until it’s safe for them?”

 

“You talk about them like they’re your children.”

 

“They are.”

 

Rantarou bit his lip. “I’ll take them, but don’t blame me if one of my sisters starts watching one and gets attached.”

 

“That’s fine. Just don’t let them read the ones with the letter E on the front. It’s not rated E for everyone. There’s only one or two in that pile, so you should be fine.”

 

“Do I want to know?”

 

“Probably not.” Tsumugi sighed when she checked the time on her phone. “Sorry for visiting so late without a warning. I should probably leave.”

 

Rantarou spoke up again just as her hand brushed the knob of the front door. “You know, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. It sounds like your mom is really mad right now.”

 

Tsumugi’s heart lurched. She gulped and turned back towards him. “Really? Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. I know what it’s like to…” He trailed off, looking away. “Let’s just say my dad wasn’t the best person in the world. Far from it.”

 

Tsumugi stared at him before smiling and settling into the seat next to him. “Thank you.” She paused. “I have a ton of anime disks. Do you want to watch them with me?”

 

“Sure, I don’t have a problem with it.”

 

“But before we do that…” Tsumugi pulled the box out of her bag and handed it to him. “Just… a little present for being my friend through these years.”

 

Rantarou chuckled and took the box. “You make it seem like we’ve been friends for a decade or something.”

 

“Whatever, just go try it on.”

 

He nodded and stepped into the bathroom before opening the box.

 

Inside was a blue and black striped shirt with a large, asymmetrical design resembling a sun sewed onto it. The sleeves were cut short just after his elbow. An underlayer of white fabric that stretched farther down than the top layer was attached to the shirt. Gray pants had been included under the shirt.

 

He shedded his clothes and put on the new outfit. A new warmth enveloped him and whether it was from the fabric or the sheer care Tsumugi had put into the outfit or both, he wasn’t sure. His heart felt as if it would explode as he looked at the new person he had become.

 

When had Tsumugi found the time to make an entire outfit for him? More importantly, how had she tailored the outfit to his interests so well? How would his own gift ever match up?

 

_ No, I shouldn’t think like that. I’m sure Shirogane-san would understand,  _ Rantarou thought. He grabbed a small box out of the mirror cabinet and headed back to the living room, where Tsumugi burst into laughter. “Shh! Don’t wake them up,” he whisper-shouted.

 

Tsumugi nodded and recovered from her laughter. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You look like a total normie. But you said you liked traveling, so I included a sun design on your shirt. Uh… you don’t have any problems with the colors, right? They _ were _ the color schemes you sent out earlier…”

 

“I love it, Shirogane-san,” Rantarou said, smoothening the cloth. “It’s a really thoughtful and well-made gift. I’ve… never had someone put so much thought into me before. You really are great at what you do.”

 

Tsumugi looked away and mumbled something about ignorant normies under her breath, covering her embarrassment the best she could.

 

Rantarou chuckled and sat down next to her before handing her the box. “Here, I was working on something for you, too.”

 

Tsumugi took the box curiously and opened it. She pulled out a dark orange ribbon. “Did you make this yourself?”

 

“Just read the back.”

 

She flipped it over and read the text embroidered into it. “ _ ‘So save up your hatred and take it all out on me. I will shoulder your hatred and die with you. Because you are my friend.’ _ ” She blinked rapidly before breaking into a grin. “Is this from Naruto?”

 

“Yeah, it is,” Rantarou said, chuckling. “My sisters forced me to take an embroidery class a few weeks ago, and I thought I would make this for you since you like to quote things all the time.”

 

Tsumugi ran her eyes along the quote over and over again, her heart jumping each time. It couldn’t have been more obviously from a beginner; The words were shaky and the space inconsistent, but that made it all the more valuable.

 

“Oh, and it’s supposed to be like…” Rantarou took the ribbon from her hand and tied it around her neck under the collar of her white blouse. “That’s better.”

 

“How long did you spend on this?” Tsumugi asked.

 

“Nothing longer than, like, twenty minutes. It’s fine.”

 

Tsumugi knew firsthand that embroidery for the first time took much longer than twenty minutes but decided to drop the subject. “Thanks, you normie. It’s special to me.”

 

“After all this time, you’re gonna keep calling me a normie?”

 

“It’s become an endearing term at this point,” Tsumugi said as she slid the CD into the player. “Now shut up and watch.”

 

They set up the TV in the living room and set the volume to low and subtitles on.

 

Rantarou’s mind couldn’t help but drift during the filler episode as his fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt. 

 

All his life, he had been told by media to never be selfish, to always look after others above himself. Of course, his younger self had absorbed that train of thought eagerly and took it to the extreme, even sabotaging himself for the sake of the unhealthy friendships he had formed in elementary and middle school. His only priority was to always give, never get.

 

This was the first time he had ever been given anything on this scale, and the mere suggestion that he meant enough for someone to design something specifically for him was enough to make his heart melt. His eyes fought to stay open, but he eventually surrendered to sleep with one thought on his mind:

 

_ You care about me. _

 

It took Tsumugi two episodes to realize that Rantarou had fallen asleep. She chuckled before tossing a blanket over him and thinking over the events of the day.

 

Tsumugi wasn’t joking when she said normie had become an endearing term. She didn’t know when she had grown to care for someone, much less a group of people so much, but friendship wasn’t as bad as some characters had portrayed it. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was enough for her.

 

Her fingers traced the letters sewed into the orange ribbon under the collar of her blouse. So much care had been put into something specially made for her. Did someone as plain as her truly deserve it?

 

… Maybe, maybe not. But plain wasn’t bad. Not anymore. There was a time when she would have thought the opposite, but that time wasn’t now.

 

She gave the sleeping figure across from her on the couch a warm smile before turning off the television and going to sleep herself with one thought on her mind:

 

_ You care about me. _

 

*

 

“Where the fuck is Tittygane?” Miu asked, seating herself at their usual table in the commons. Two spiky rings were placed around her neck. Her backpack overflowed with papers and some spilled out onto the floor, though it didn’t seem like she noticed or cared.

 

Rantarou shrugged, taking the edge of the striped shirt he wore under his uniform between his fingers. “She said she had a meeting with the headmaster today. I thought it would be after school, but apparently not. You have any ideas, Ouma-kun?”

 

Kokichi stared ahead, his face blank with a chain tied to the right shoulder of his uniform. He grabbed his buzzing phone off the table and took one look at the screen before packing up all of his work.

 

“Huh? What’s going on, Ouma—”

 

The double doors leading to the cafeteria slammed open and silenced the room. Tsumugi stood at the doorway, panting and face flushed and with a new orange ribbon under the collar of her blouse.

 

Miu furrowed her eyebrows. “Shirofucker, what the h—”

 

“Everyone! The headmaster is coming around in two minutes. If he sees your phone, he’ll take it away!” Tsumugi’s voice echoed against the walls of the commons.

 

Silence.

 

Then everyone screamed, flailing their limbs as they rushed to hide their phone and Tsumugi ran to the back table.

 

Miu grabbed her phone and stuck it in between her breasts. She held her hand out. “Hey, Shiroshitty, give me your jacket.”

 

Tsumugi gave her a dubious look but handed it over. She held her phone out to Rantarou. “Amami-kun, can you tie my phone into my hair?”

 

“Wait, what?” Rantarou said, his face wrinkled into a look of disbelief.

 

“Tie my phone into my hair. You can do it, right?”

 

“I mean, yeah, but are you sure it won’t get stuck or something?”

 

“I don’t care if it gets stuck, I don’t need to be yelled at for getting my phone taken away.”

 

Rantarou took the phone and began to tie it into Tsumugi’s hair.

 

Miu finished putting on the jacket and zipped it up to her neck. “It’s been so long since my tits were covered up… It feels weird, and not in a good way.”

 

“Can you shut up about your tits for one second?” Kokichi said, stuffing his phone into his sock. He looked up at Tsumugi and snorted. “Your hair looks like a bird’s nest, Shirogane-chan.”

 

“I know!” Tsumugi cried, tucking her hair under back of her shirt. She turned around to Rantarou. “What are you going to do about your phone?”

 

Rantarou’s eyes darted around before he grabbed duct tape out of Kokichi’s open backpack and held it out to Kokichi. “Ouma-kun, I need you to tape my phone to my back.”

 

Kokichi took the tape and tore off a long strip before holding up Rantarou’s shirt and attaching the phone in place with the tape. He pushed the tape down and released the shirt.

 

“Why do you have duct tape anyway? Do you just carry random shit around in your backpack?” Miu asked. “And you’re fucked if the headmaster tells you to take off your socks. You might as well be fucked already.”

 

Kokichi put the duct tape back in his backpack. He would have responded to Miu’s last comment had the cafeteria not gone silent.

 

The headmaster walked in, eyes scanning the area. He pointed at a frozen student holding a phone and pointed at him. The other staff members descended upon the student, confiscating both his phone and his pride.

 

The same happened to a few other students before the headmaster approached the quartet. “You four, hands.”

 

They held out their hands.

 

“Roll up your sleeves.”

 

They rolled up their sleeves, everyone careful not to let their phones slip.

 

“Shoes.”

 

Everyone kicked their shoes off. Three pairs of eyes sent alarmed glances to Kokichi, whose face remained stone cold.

 

“Socks.”

 

Miu, Rantarou, and Tsumugi took their socks off, but Kokichi narrowed his eyes. “Sir, I have a giant cut on the bottom of my foot, and the doctor told me not to get it into contact with anything that’s unclean like the floor.”

 

The headmaster raised an eyebrow. “What about your socks?”

 

“These are special socks that the doctor gave me. I’ve been wearing them for five days now. I should probably change them, actually,” Kokichi said, looking off in thought. He turned to the headmaster with a grin. “Wanna see where I stomped on a knife?”

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” the headmaster said. He moved onto another group of students.

 

Kokichi scurried to put his shoes back on while the other three rolled their sleeves back down.

 

Soon, the Great Phone Purge passed, and the student body struggled to get their phones out of their hiding places. Screeches and shouts echoed against the walls of the cafeteria.

 

“I think I tangled my hair too much,” Tsumugi muttered as she tried to untie her hair.

 

Rantarou took one look at the web of hair and laughed. “Hold still, this might hurt.” He took a brush out of his backpack and began to brush the phone out of her hair.

 

“You carry a brush around with you?” Kokichi said. He wrinkled his nose when he finally got his phone out of his sock. “Ew! It smells like feet!”

 

“Fuck did you think it was gonna smell like? Who the hell’s stupid enough to actually risk stepping on their phone? Unlike those people,  _ I  _ have the good sense to put them between something trustable,” Miu said as she unzipped the jacket around her and tossed it to Tsumugi, who caught it without a word. Her face wrinkled when she grabbed her phone out of her shirt. “Fuck, I forgot about boob sweat!”

 

“Of course you would, you stupid bitch,” Kokichi sneered. He lifted the back of Rantarou’s shirt and ripped the duct tape off.

 

Rantarou winced. “At least give me a warning before you do that. And thanks, just put it next to me.”

 

Kokichi wadded the tape and threw it in a nearby trash can before setting Rantarou’s phone next to him.

 

Another voice boomed throughout the commons. “Give me my phone back, you asshole!”

 

A horde of people chased each other, everyone yelling at one person or another.

 

And that was how their unholy quartet of losers became an unforgettable part of their school’s history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys I'm sick and had to cut 4000 words from this yesterday and im dead inside
> 
> Ten Minute Rule: A rule where if the teacher is X minutes late, the students can legally leave. I'm not sure how true this is (probably not true at all), but a lot of kids at my school used to say it.
> 
> Panta Incident: The incident involving group chats and Kokichi drinking too much Panta mentioned last chapter in Rantarou's summer scene.
> 
> Gifts: Every gift given is a part of their canonical appearance.
> 
> Great Phone Purge: Luckily, nothing like this has actually happened to me. It's based off someone's experience on Tumblr that I sadly can't find the post to.
> 
> Please let me know if you have any questions.


	6. Calculators, Volunteering, Unexpected Visitors, Gifts II, and Bombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship.”

“You cannot be this fucking energetic at the ass crack of dawn,” Miu mumbled, her fingers clacking against the keys of her pink calculator. She paused to scribble down an answer on a worksheet. “And if you say it’s because of your nasty ass skittle cereal, I’m actually going to kill you.”

 

“I’d like to see you try,” Kokichi sneered.

 

Rantarou looked up from the pages of his planner. “Hey, I’m really enjoying this conversation, but don’t we have a math test tomorrow?”

 

Everyone froze.

 

“I didn’t even know there was homework last night. How was I supposed to know there was a test?” Tsumugi mumbled.

 

“I don’t think we should worry about it,” Rantarou said, “The teacher said it was really formula-heavy, right? All we need to do is plug everything in and put it into the calculator.”

 

“He’s not giving us formulas.”

 

“We’re fine and—wait, what?”

 

“He’s not giving us formulas,” Tsumugi repeated, her lips tight. “He wrote that on the whiteboard. I think he really expects us to learn all these formulas.”

 

Everyone turned to Miu.

 

Miu snorted and set her calculator down. “If you can’t learn these basic ass formulas, then you shouldn’t be passing this class.”

 

Rantarou gave her a weird look. “There… There are Greek letters in these formulas. They aren’t basic. And as far as I know, you do all your invention calculations with an online converter, not on paper or with our calculators.”

 

“You know why? Because these shitty, overpriced calculators can’t do shit!” Miu said, smashing the buttons on her calculator. “I fucking hate how they’re draining us of money like the dicksuckers they are.” She stopped. Her eyes glazed over as her eyes ran over the keys on the calculator. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She took her backpack and hurried up the stairs.

 

The other three watched her disappear up the staircase, knowing they should stop her but also wanting to see where this would go.

 

“What’s she doing this time?” Kokichi asked, fiddling with the edges of the chain tied to his shoulder.

 

Rantarou sighed. “Who knows?”

 

The next day, Miu rushed to their usual table with bloodshot eyes and her calculator in hand. Her hair stuck up in too many directions to count, but a smug smile still crossed her face. “Listen up, you virgins, I figured it out!”

 

The other three looked up just in time to see Miu ram her stomach into the edge of the table. Rantarou and Tsumugi bit their lips to keep their smiles back, but Kokichi burst out laughing.

 

“Sh-Shut up, you stupid twink!” Miu struggled to bring her crumpled body up onto a seat before facing the calculator towards them, revealing the memory cleared screen. “You know how you can program formulas into the calculator, but the teacher’s an asshole so he makes us clear everything beforehand? Look at this shit. I spent the entire damn night trying to make the memory cleared screen, pixel by fucking pixel. You’d better be thankful for it.”

 

Tsumugi smiled as she copied the screen down on her own calculator. “We are. Thank you, Iruma-san. It’ll be really helpful.”

 

Miu jumped and shrunk back, twirling her hair around a finger. “Y-You really think so?”

 

“I know so.”

 

“Since when did this cheating ring get supportive? It’s disgusting,” Kokichi said, copying the code down.

 

Rantarou took one look at at the bowl in front of Kokichi and snatched it away before pouring everything into a nearby garbage can. “Your breakfast is disgusting. Get a real one.”

 

“You’re not my mom, you can’t tell me what to do.”

 

“Go get the school breakfast,” Tsumugi said.

 

Kokichi stood up and walked into the line for the school breakfast without a word.

 

“... Why do I have to be the mom of this group? I don’t want to be considered even remotely responsible for any of your actions.”

 

“Too late, Mom,” Miu snickered, taking a bar of chocolate out of her backpack and breaking off two pieces. She held them out with shaky fingers.

 

Rantarou and Tsumugi accepted the chocolate with a smile.

 

*

 

The time had come.

 

The students filtered into the math class and sat down, taking out their calculators and scratch paper. They reviewed formulas on their notes and flipped through their worksheets with the franticness of a scared squirrel. No one dared to say anything other than the occasional murmur.

 

The math teacher sipped from his coffee mug before handing a stack of tan privacy folders to a teacher aide. “Before we pass these out, take out your calculators and clear them. You know the drill.”

 

Everyone shuffled to clear their calculators as the teacher came around to check their screens.

 

Four students mimed clicking a few buttons and showed their screen to the teacher. When they earned the nod of approval, they flashed a smile at each other and disappeared behind their privacy folders.

 

*

 

**PantaLord** : lmao I cant believe that shitty technique actually worked

**GreatestInventor** : who the hell did u think u were messing with u dickless cocksucking virgin

**PantaLord** : shut up u cocksucking whore

**Avocado** : what do you all have against cocksucking

**SHSLCosplayer** : can we stop talking about dicks and bring our attention to how good our math teacher is at grading things? The test grades are in the grade book

**Avocado** : to be fair the test wasn't as hard as I thought it would be

**GreatestInventor** : if any of you got less than a 100 then I'm blocking you

**PantaLord** : I got a 99

**GreatestInventor** : lol bye bitch

**PantaLord:** but that was a lie

**GreatestInventor:** sry i cant see anything bc ur blocked

**SHSLCosplayer** : Iruma-san you’re sitting next to me right now I can see you not blocking him

**GreatestInventor** : shhhhhhh it’s called a joke

**PantaLord** : the only joke here is your existence

**GreatestInventor** : DUCK YOU

**Avocado** : Duck?

**SHSLCosplayer** : Duck?

**PantaLord** : goose!!

**GreatestInventor** : fuck you guys it was an honest typo

**SHSLCosplayer** : don’t you mean duck us?

**GreatestInventor** : stop

**Avocado** : anyway anyone up for a hangout at the mall tomorrow after school

**PantaLord** : yeah sure

**GreatestInventor** : im down

**SHSLCosplayer** : I can go

 

*

 

Weekends were usually a student’s solace, the only thing they looked forward to during their five days of hell. But then again, Tsumugi wasn’t the average student, and neither was Kokichi.

 

Kokichi stepped out of the dressing room, clad in a leprechaun uniform and a grin that looked so forced it had to hurt. “So, how do I look?”

 

Tsumugi answered by bursting into laughter.

 

Even Tsumugi had to admit that the school’s decision to hold a fundraising festival on St. Patrick’s Day and force everyone to wear uniforms was ridiculous. Clubs gathered around in the empty student parking lot, each club complaining about the festival. The chess club was set somewhere on the far right of the parking lot. A few of the club members were gathered there, preparing for the long day ahead of them.

 

“You know, the outfit I made for you would have been so much better,” Tsumugi said, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

 

“Outfit?”

 

Fuck.

 

Tsumugi met his eyes. “Outfit? I didn’t say anything about an outfit. You must not be getting enough sleep.”

 

“Aww, Shirogane-chan actually thinks she can lie to me!” Kokichi cooed. He gripped Tsumugi’s wrist. “Now tell me.”

 

“... Fine,” Tsumugi mumbled, “I was going to give it to you on our last day of school, but since you’re being so whiny right now…” She pried Kokichi’s hand off her and dug through her backpack before taking out a box and giving it to him. “Go back in the changing room.”

 

“That’s sooo sweet! Thanks, Shirogane-chan!” He skipped back into the changing room and shut the door behind him. 

 

Inside the box was a white uniform with straps tied around the arms and two straps tied to the legs. The shirt part of the uniform was bound together by metal clips and was ripped at the hem and collar. Two rows of buttons were attached to the middle. A black cape and hat were included in the box under the uniform, and a pair of black combat boots were added with the note  _ “Get yourself some less ugly shoes.” _

 

Kokichi couldn’t help but giggle at the note as he switched into the clothes Tsumugi had given him. It had been everything he hoped for in a costume, from the bagginess to the dramatic cape.  _ You remembered I don’t like tight clothes. You remembered my lies about my organization. Shirogane-chan… you’re really too considerate for your own good, you know that? _

 

He stepped out with a wide, menacing grin and open arms with a smaller box in one hand, only to have Tsumugi burst into laughter again. He immediately dropped the act and pouted. “What? I’m not enough of a supreme leader for you?”

 

“No, no, it’s just…” Tsumugi gave him a warm smile. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come.”

 

He snorted. “Proud of me or the outfit?”

 

“Both, to be honest.”

 

It wasn’t a lie. Kokichi stared at her blankly for a few seconds before his face glowed red, and he looked away. He held the box out to her and mumbled, “Here. I made it for you.”

 

Tsumugi blinked in surprise but took it. She picked up one of the six white buttons and inspected it. “Buttons?”

 

“Turn them over.”

 

She turned them over and read the text on them aloud. “You. Best. Me. Know. Tsumugi. Shirogane… You know me best?”

 

“Bingo!” Kokichi folded his arms behind his head and grinned. “Man, Shirogane-chan, you must be really stupid if it took you this long to figure it out.”

 

_ Took me even longer to figure you out, and I still don’t really know you,  _ Tsumugi thought bitterly, holding her tongue. But to be deemed one of the people who know him best… one of the people who know this confusing, lying, perplexing mess best…

 

Her heart felt warmer than ever had in years.

 

“You must be even stupider if you don’t know how to put them on. Here.” He jumped forward and grabbed all six pins, attaching them to the collar of her blazer. His movements were precise and careful. He stepped back and clapped his hands together. “There you go!”

 

Tsumugi ran her hands over the pins, and when she looked at the five-foot-tall dork in front of her, all she could do was smile. “Thank you. It really does mean more than I could ever say.”

 

“You shouldn’t lie, Shirogane-chan. I just absolutely despise liars.”

 

“But you know I’m not lying.”

 

His grin faded into a smaller, nervous smile. “Yeah. You’re not.”

 

The two stood in a contemplative silence, each of the two lost in their own worlds yet still bonded by the road called reality. Thinking was all they knew how to do, but now was the time for action.

 

“But that doesn’t mean you can get out of wearing the leprechaun costume,” Tsumugi said, pushing him back in the changing room. “Get back in there.”

 

“You’re so mean!” Kokichi cried, but he stepped back into the room and changed into his leprechaun costume. 

 

Just as Kokichi stepped back out, a club member ran into the building, panting and sweating. The student stopped to catch his breath before looking up at them with pure despair written on his face. “There’s no more chairs.”

 

Tsumugi’s heart stopped. She frowned. “What do you mean there’s no more chairs?”

 

“The orchestra is having a concert today, and they need chairs for their cellos. They took the stools for their basses, too. They just left.”

 

Absolute fuckers.

 

“Eh, we like standing anyway,” Kokichi said, waving the student off. “Go back to our station and make sure the sophomores aren’t screwing around.”

 

The student rushed back outside, leaving the double doors swinging in his wake.

 

They watched him run for a moment before Tsumugi spoke up again. “Ouma-kun, you do know that we have to stand for the entire day, right?”

 

“What were the times again?”

 

“It’s eight o’clock now, and we end at seven.”

 

“Well, nothing we can do about that, right? Let’s just go outside now.”

 

The two walked out to the student parking lot to their station, where two sophomores held a freshman’s bag over their heads, laughing at the freshman’s attempt to grab them.

 

The smile wiped off Kokichi and Tsumugi’s faces immediately. Tsumugi took a deep breath to yell at them, but she was beaten to it by Kokichi.

 

“Hey, you two! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

The two sophomores’ eyes popped wide open upon seeing Kokichi’s rapidly approaching figure. They dropped the bag and stuttered out, “Um, th-the freshie just wanted us to, uh, show him around, you know?”

 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me. It’s been over a semester, and you two are sophomores.”

 

“Y-You know freshmen these days, always getting lost.” They chuckled pathetically, sweat dripping down their foreheads.

 

Tsumugi’s gaze darted from Kokichi to the juniors to Kokichi again. She almost jumped at the complete change of mood on his face, but that was when she knew she had designed the correct outfit for him.

 

He scowled at them, his face so pale his forehead was colored with a purple sheen. His eyes burned holes into their bodies, and his hair had cast a shadow over his face. It was the face of something to truly be feared and a face nobody would forget for a while.

 

“We’re just gonna uh… leave now,” the sophomores said before running in the opposite direction.

 

The freshman picked up their backpack and mumbled a quick thanks before taking off as well.

 

Kokichi’s expression returned to his normal carefree grin. “Well, that sure was something. Come on, Shirogane-chan, let’s get the fundraiser ready.”

 

Tsumugi nodded, her skin still prickling from the previous scene. She watched over the bags of popcorn on the table while Kokichi stepped behind the register. They were joined by a few other club members, who complained to each other about not having chairs.

 

Finally, the festival had started. People flooded into the parking lot, children running around laughing and students not attending a club laughing at their friends. The morning was still young, and the sky was still dark, illuminated by the colorful paper lanterns the culture club had strung around the parking lot. The air smelled faintly of carnival foods. The familiar buzz of chatter had returned accompanied by laughter.

 

Kokichi put on a bright grin with a child approached. “Hey, there! How can I help you?”

 

The child promptly kicked him in the shins and ran away, snickering about how he had kicked the leprechaun.

 

“Are you alright, Ouma-kun?” Tsumugi asked, frowning at the laughter of the surrounding people.

 

Kokichi waved her off and balanced himself on one foot until the pain went away. Around half an hour later when the traffic wasn’t as bad, he rolled up the cuff of his pants and showed the exposed, purple skin to Tsumugi. “Look, Shirogane-chan! It’s the mark of a leprechaun!”

 

“Are you sure you don’t need medical help? Maybe we could get you a chair from one of the other clubs. I’m sure they would be willing to give us one.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, got it, Mom. I’m fine.”

 

“Never call me that again.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

They continued standing in place for around three hours before their feet  _ really _ began to ache.

 

“There’s always people standing up and talking to people for hours in anime,” Tsumugi mumbled, rubbing her aching feet during one of their breaks. She sighed and sat on the ground. “How do they do that?”

 

“Real life isn’t like your cartoons, Shirogane-chan,” Kokichi said, doing the same.

 

Tsumugi chose to ignore his jab at her to put her shoes back on. She winced upon standing up. “Why did I wear heels today?” She held out a hand. “Come on, our break is over.”

 

“Five more minutes.”

 

“You’re not even in your bed right now. Get up.”

 

Kokichi reluctantly stood up, tears pricking his eyes. “You’re so mean, Shirogane-chan. My poor feet are actually suffering.  _ Suffering,  _ and you choose to ignore their struggle. You’re a cruel tyrant.”

 

Tsumugi sighed. She could feel a headache coming on already. “I know your feet hurt, but so do mine. Now get up.”

 

They dragged each other to their stations, earning a few confused glances from surrounding people and their classmates. They stood straight up with a smile, but a shared knowing look told them everything they needed to know about their current states of pain.

 

Tsumugi shrugged as another child kicked Kokichi’s leg and he sent her a pained smile. As the crowd moved to the other parts of the festival, Tsumugi couldn’t help but let her mind drift to the conversation she and Kokichi had inside the building.

 

_ You know me best, Tsumugi Shirogane.  _ What did that mean?

 

She was proud to be deemed the person who knew him best but judging by the incident with the two juniors and the freshman from earlier, she still had a lot to learn. They had only spent two years together, after all. But she liked learning, and just because she still needed to learn more didn’t mean she didn’t have enough knowledge to deem him a friend and a position.

 

_ Kokichi Ouma, my partner in crime. _

 

A few feet over, Kokichi rubbed the bruise forming on his shin but kept his grin plastered on his face. His smile only flickered when he turned to Tsumugi. He paused. Why did he do that? When had he trusted her enough to show her his pain?

 

All his doubts were erased as soon as he saw the smile on Tsumugi’s face as she mouthed,  _ It’ll be over soon _ . The ache in his foot suddenly became much less noticeable, and his bruises disappeared. He had forgotten about his pain for just a moment before he returned to reality.

 

But reality wasn’t as bad with a friend by his side.

 

_ Tsumugi Shirogane, my voice of reason. _

 

*

 

Rantarou was no stranger to unexpected sights. After all, he lived in a house with thirteen other people; He was bound to see some unusual things once in a while. That being said, the person occupying his couch and flicking through television channels while complaining about him wasting his time sleeping didn’t even come close to belonging in his house.

 

Rantarou took a deep breath, the surprise fading and being replaced with irritation. “Yeah, I hear you, Iruma-san, but mind telling me why you’re in my house?”

 

Miu shrugged and sat up. “I kinda got bored of working on my latest invention. The world can wait for a few minutes.” Translation:  _ I can’t think of anything and can’t bear to look at it, and I needed an excuse to be somewhere else. _

 

“I’m glad you’re taking measures to protect your mental health.” The irritation disappeared. His eyes flickered to the television screen. “Are you watching children’s shows?”

 

“Ugh, how wholesome can you be? Quit that shit,” Miu said. She paused before plastering on a nonchalant look. Her lips twitched anyway. “Also, my dad came back from work the other day.”

 

Rantarou stopped. She didn’t sound the least bit happy about it. “Yeah?”

 

“Caught me working on an invention.” She chuckled. “You know what he told me? Bastard told me girls can’t be in STEM. What a load of shit, right?” Despite her relaxed stance, her words held the underlying tone of something Rantarou was all too familiar with: uncertainty.

 

Anger boiled in Rantarou’s gut, but he kept it down. He didn’t need to lash out at a friend that was already hurting. “Iruma-san, he’s wrong. You know this.”

 

Miu’s mouth trembled. “I-I know, it’s just… it doesn’t feel good having someone attack your passion.”

 

“Even if the person is completely irrelevant?”

 

“Yeah, sure, he’s a bitch, but he’s also my dad. I’ve been financially tied to him for years.”

 

The image of another, more despicable green-haired man floated to Rantarou’s mind, and he fought back the urge to sneer in disgust. “Yeah. I understand. How long is he staying?”

 

“Just today. Good fucking riddance.”

 

“You can stay here for as long as you want.”

 

“I know, why the hell else do you think I came here?” Miu recoiled back into her shell, bringing her knees closer to her face. She dug through her bag before holding a box out to him. “H-Here. I thought you might appreciate something from the great inventor herself.”

 

Rantarou took the box and opened it. “A chain?”

 

“You always wear that uniform Shirogane gave you at school, right?” Miu said, “I noticed that there was place to attach a keychain to, so I made a badge. Whatever it’s called.”

 

He looked down at the shirt he was wearing and pinned the chain to the fabric on his right shoulder. He smiled upon seeing how snugly it fit. “Thanks, Iruma-san. You really spent a lot of time on it, didn’t you?”

 

Instead of denying it like he expected her to, she looked away. “... Yeah. Took me a while of forging and shit. Well? Do you like it or not?”

 

Rantarou hummed and fiddled with the chain, running his fingers along the intricate carvings carved into the badge on the end. “I love it. If you really think about it, it represents us perfectly, doesn’t it?”

 

“What’s this pseudo-intellectual bullshit you’re spouting?”

 

“Don’t chains symbolize something like connection and unity? You know, with the individual links being connected?”

 

“Something like that, I guess,” Miu mumbled, “But it was really supposed to be something about freedom and moving on since the design is kinda cracked.”

 

“... That’s awfully thoughtful of you, Iruma-san.”

 

Miu wrinkled her nose. “Disgusting.”

 

Rantarou chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Oh, that reminds me.” He stood up and walked to the bookshelf before taking a small, flat box out of the top shelf. He returned to his seat next to Miu and held it out to her with a warm smile. “I was working on this for some time now, and I thought it would fit you best.”

 

Miu took the box from him hesitantly. “You sure you don’t want to give this to your sister or some shit?”

 

“Just open it.”

 

She opened the box slowly and took the gray collar out, her eyes tracing the three white circles drawn in on the side. “A collar? That’s kinky as fuck.”

 

“Look on the inside.”

 

She flipped it inside out and read the text engraved on it. “ _ ‘For Miu Iruma, 100% Survival Rate.’ _ Oh my god.” She burst into a fit of laughter, leaning back into the soft cushions of the couch.

 

Rantarou laughed alongside her, his heart swelling at the sound of genuine happiness. “What? It’s true.”

 

“I know, that’s why I’m laughing, dipshit!” Finally, Miu’s laughter died down, and she put the collar around her neck, her fingers lingering on it. Her grin faded into a warm smile. “I… Thanks. You’re not that bad of a friend, Amacunt.”

 

“You too, Iruma-san.”

 

They stayed in silence, watching the program on television.

 

Even if the moment was familiar, it became new with the presence of a new person in both his house and in his life. Rantarou’s mind couldn’t help but wander to sometime last year when he had finally ranted after years of keeping his mouth shut and letting his anger fester inside him like a parasite. He didn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t.

 

Rantarou’s gaze drifted to Miu as she laughed at a joke one of the characters said.

 

_ Miu Iruma, my sanity. _

 

Miu only allowed herself to fully relax into the seat when an episode had passed without Rantarou complaining. She inwardly scolded herself for being a bother but fought to push those thoughts away. Her thoughts were wrong. She would never be a bother, especially to someone like Rantarou. He had made that clear just by allowing her into his house.

 

Miu flashed him a toothy grin and a peace sign as she allowed the tenseness in her muscles to loosen.

 

_ Rantarou Amami, my ride or die. _

 

*

 

At their school, tips for bomb threats on overwhelming weeks were common, and so were random vibrating noises mistook for bomb threats (Miu mentally cursed out the bitch that had called in last month). But thankfully or not so thankfully, that didn’t mean the school was going to ignore them anytime soon.

 

“Of course they had to choose the coldest day to do something like this,” Miu grumbled, pulling her jacket closer to her. She sent the other three a weird look. “How the fuck are you guys not cold?”

 

Rantarou shrugged. “I’ve been to colder places.”

 

“Cosplaying people without many clothes during winter taught me a lot,” Tsumugi said.

 

“And I just got used to it,” Kokichi added. “Really, it’s weird that  _ you _ didn’t get used to it by now. You’re always dressing like a whore.”

 

“Thanks, I try.” Miu looked down at her watch. “It’s been ten fucking minutes already. Can we go in now?”

 

“Some people are still coming out,” Tsumugi said, pointing at the crowd of juniors being herded out of the school.

 

The entire left wing of the school was crowded into the student parking lot. Classes were mixed and scattered until no one could locate either their classmates or their teacher. The white signs held up for situations like this drowned in the flood of students.

 

Three hours passed. The mindless chatter had started to turn into worrying murmurs.

 

Miu blinked. “... Holy shit, you think there’s actually a bomb in there? It’s been three hours, and the longest they’ve gone with us out here is thirty minutes.”

 

“I’m more impressed you kept track of the time,” Rantarou said. Nevertheless, he pulled out his phone and shot each of his family members a quick text. “Hey, if we die today, just know that I had a fun time with all of you.”

 

“We’re not gonna die, Amacunt,” Miu said, but it was clear that she didn’t quite believe herself.

 

Tsumugi and Kokichi remained silent.

 

Other students around them were doing the same, some even calling the police department. A soft buzz had fallen over the students as they documented the experience on their phones, no doubt to be uploaded to social media if they survived the incident.

 

By the time the headmaster came out to address the student body, the entire field had gone silent.

 

“We found what was causing the vibrating noise,” the headmaster announced. He sighed before holding up a long, purple object in a clear plastic bag. “We found this in the girls’ bathrooms on the left wing right before it ran out of batteries.”

 

“Oh my god,” Kokichi snickered, turning to Miu. “Is that what I think it is? And does it belong to the person I think it belongs to?”

 

Miu’s face paled, and she stayed silent.

 

“I don’t ever recall you stepping out of class today. How did you even get it there?” Tsumugi asked.

 

“No, there was one time in our foreign language class,” Rantarou said, crossing his arms. “Remember after the teacher finished her powerpoint and Iruma-san walked out with a bag?”

 

“Give me a fucking break,” Miu whined, snapping out of her silence. “I was desperate, okay? What else is a girl supposed to do after watching hardcore porn?”

 

“You… You were watching porn in class?” Rantarou shook his head. “No, you have to be lying.”

 

Kokichi burst out into laughter. “No, she’s not. I sat right behind her in class, and she was watching porn on her phone throughout the entire lecture.” He turned to Miu. “Though I didn’t think your tastes would be so vanilla, Iruma-chan. You’re always talking about how much of a slut you are, but all you were watching is some girl getting railed by—”

 

Miu slapped a hand over his mouth and scowled. “No kinkshaming. You’re the one who watches—Ew!” She retracted her hand and wiped it on her skirt. “Did you just lick my hand, you little shit?”

 

Kokichi opened his mouth to respond, but he was shut down by the headmaster walking towards them.

 

The headmaster eyed each of them carefully. “Do any of you happen to know the person who would like to claim this as their own?”

 

“No, sir, we don’t,” Kokichi said. His face was believably blank. 

 

“Actually, I heard some of the girls over there talking about it,” Rantarou said, pointing at a group of students gathered at the edge of the parking lot.

 

Tsumugi nodded in agreement. “Yes, I think one of them wants their… object back.”

 

“Thank you. I hope this incident hasn’t ruined your perception of the school.” The headmaster walked away, closing in on the students Rantarou had pointed at earlier.

 

Miu looked away and mumbled something under her breath.

 

Kokichi’s grin grew wider. “Huh? What was that, Iruma-chan? I’m afraid I couldn’t hear you.”

 

“I said thanks, you little shit,” Miu grumbled.

 

“Thanks for what?”

 

“Covering for me.”

 

Tsumugi cut in before Kokichi could tease her further. “It’s great that we got away with it, but what are you gonna do about your lost object, Iruma-san?”

 

“You can just say dildo, you know,” Miu snorted, rolling her eyes. “And it’s fine. I can always make another one.”

 

“Okay, but… don’t bring it to school. Ever.”

 

“No promises.”

 

Finally, the bell signaling the students to come back to class rang. They walked back to school together, catching Miu up on what the lecture was about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Festival: my school didn't have this (thank god), but we had something called trunk-or-treat on Halloween where the clubs set up cars in the parking lot and passed out candy. I was in one of the participating clubs where we did facepainting too but I was stuck passing out candy. I only had to stand up for like 4 hours, but that was in heels while also having to run back and forth so
> 
> Orchestra chairs: I'm part of orchestra and I'm sorry we steal all the chairs
> 
> Bully sophomores: I know the bullies of the school are usually stereotyped as the seniors, but seniors stay in their lane. At my school, it's the sophomores that don't know their place
> 
> Please let me know if you have any questions.


	7. Skittles, Late Night Visitors, Pillow Forts, Gifts III, Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here’s to the nights that turned into mornings with the friends that turned into family.”

“Did any of you know there’s a language arts test tomorrow?” Rantarou asked once he sat down at his table. His face was calm, but the way his fingers twitched revealed the opposite.

 

Tsumugi looked up from her homework, her eyes wide. Her hand clenched around the blue mechanical pencil she held between her fingers. “Wait, there’s a language arts test tomorrow? When did she tell us that?”

 

“Yesterday.”

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

“I know it isn’t, that’s why I’m asking you guys if there’s a test tomorrow or not. There’s gotta be some kind of school rule against it.”

 

“Nope,” Kokichi said with a blank face, flipping through the pages of the school handbook. “No rule against it. For all they care, the teachers could give pop tests, and it would still be allowed.”

 

“You’ve got to be shitting me. Give me that.” Miu snatched the handbook away from him and scanned the text, her face gradually falling as she read on. She threw it back on the table as Kokichi snickered. “It doesn’t say shit. You got a plan for this, Oucunt?”

 

“Getting creative with the names, I see,” Kokichi said. “And I already sketched out a plan. Here.” He dug through his backpack before setting a sheet of paper on the table. 

 

A series of small dots had been drawn on it in purple glitter gel pen with smiley faces scattered all over the paper. The layout of the desks in the language arts classroom was plotted with a brown colored marker. Their names had been written in the back four seats in choppy, rushed letters. More colorful circles were drawn in a sketch of a jar.

 

Rantarou’s eyes roamed across the paper before his lips curled into an amused smile. His eyes flickered up to Kokichi, a playful twinkle lighting them up. “Ouma-kun, is this just a ploy to get us to buy candy for you?”

 

“I mean…”

 

“If we go with this stupid ass plan, you’re paying for it,” Miu said, “There’s no way in hell I’m buying anything for a virgin like you.”

 

Kokichi sniffed and wiped the tears forming in his eyes with his sleeve. His nose wrinkled at the wetness left behind on the fabric, but he kept up the facade. “Why are you so mean to me? Don’t you know I can’t afford to buy any of this?”

 

“They’re a box of fucking skittles. You can literally buy some from the school store for a dollar. And if you couldn’t afford it, you wouldn’t have planned for it.”

 

“I-I just wanted to help!” Kokichi burst into tears, making everyone wince at the all too familiar sound and drawing the attention of the surrounding students.

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll buy them,” Tsumugi grumbled. “Just stop crying and making us look bad.”

 

Kokichi’s tears disappeared immediately and were replaced by a grin. “Thanks, Shirogane-chan. Should we go to class now?”

 

The other three mumbled an agreement and collected their supplies before climbing up the stairs to their next class together.

 

*

 

The next day, Kokichi walked into class carrying a jar full of colorful candy and Tsumugi trudging along behind him, muttering curses under her breath.

 

Rantarou, who was seated next to Miu, raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You actually bought it for him?”

 

“I keep my word,” Tsumugi said before taking her place next to Miu.

 

Kokichi sat in front of them and set the jar of candy at the corner of his desk, earning a confused look from some of the other students who had arrived early. “Yellow is for A, red is B, green is C, orange is D, and purple is E. You get five seconds to look at the color of the candy on my desk before I eat it. If you can’t catch up, sucks to suck.”

 

“Ha, literally,” Miu cackled.

 

Kokichi gave her a long look. “Nevermind, you get three seconds just for that terrible joke.”

 

“W-What?”

 

“I lied. It’s one second.”

 

“S-Stop joking around like that, it’s not fair!”

 

The bell rang, cutting Kokichi off from whatever he was about to say next. He turned back around as the teacher passed out the tests. He took one look at the test before setting a purple skittle on this desk.

 

The other three bubbled in E.

 

Kokichi paused for five seconds before picking the skittle up and tossing it in his mouth, allowing the color to drain from it before chewing. He set out a red skittle next.

 

They wrinkled their noses at his method of eating skittles before filling out B. 

 

The cycle continued until they were all done with their forty question test. Kokichi stood up immediately to turn in his paper.

 

Tsumugi waited ten minutes before turning her own in.

 

Rantarou added his paper to the pile fifteen minutes later.

 

Miu waited until the bell rang to turn her own paper in.

 

The other students stood up and turned their tests in as well, complaining about the content of the test and its length. They hurried out of class to get to their next period. A few pencils and pens were left behind in their carelessness.

 

“Your way of eating skittles is disgusting,” Tsumugi said, walking out of class with the other three gathered around her.

 

“Yeah, why the fuck do you eat skittles like that?” Miu asked.

 

Kokichi laughed and folded his arms behind his head. “Who says I didn’t eat it like that just to piss you off?”

 

“Is everything you do to fuck with us?”

 

“Basically.”

 

*

 

Staying up late was becoming more of a habit than Rantarou would have liked it to be. He supposed the nights he stayed up giggling at the increasingly creative insults slung between Kokichi and Miu or the full essays Tsumugi wrote on the bee movie while drunk off sleep deprivation were finally starting to get to him, but that didn’t mean he was going to bow down to sleep anytime soon.

 

A knocking sound caught his interest. It was weak and barely audible but could still be heard throughout the silent house.

 

It was two in the morning. Fuck.

 

Rantarou steeled himself before walking downstairs, hearing the knocks become more urgent. He took a deep breath before opening the door.

 

“Hi, Amami-chan! Mind letting me in?”

 

Rantarou took one look at the person in front of him and screamed.

 

And that was how Rantarou found himself sitting with his bloodied friend in the kitchen at two in the morning with first aid supplies and two cups of coffee.

 

“Do you feel like explaining why you’re at my house at two in the morning?” Rantarou asked, cleaning the blood off Kokichi’s forehead with a red towel. “This has actually happened twice. What is so appealing about coming to my house in the middle of the night?”

 

“I was just taking a walk in the area, you know, to clear my head and stuff, when this criminal jumped out and tried to mug me!” Kokichi said, gesturing in time with his words. “I fought back, of course, but I couldn’t get away without injuries. I figured my good friend Amami-chan could patch me up, so I ran here. I risked my life, you know.”

 

Rantarou gave him a blank stare.

 

“... Fine. I ran into a lamppost.”

 

“How do you get this fucked up from running into a lamp?”

 

“In my defense, it was a pretty hard lamppost.”

 

“That’s not a good defense.”

 

“Humans are naturally squishy and easy to kill while lampposts are manufactured rods of steel that can beat up any of us.”

 

“That’s… kind of terrifying, but a better defense than a hard lamppost.” Rantarou paused to attach a bandage to the cut running across the top of Kokichi’s forehead. “I think I see what happened now. You hit one of the sharp edges of the lamppost, not just the lamppost itself. Was it that stupid poster advertising weight loss pills? I’ve called neighborhood watch on them multiple times, but they don’t seem to do anything.”

 

“No, it was the one with a ton of puns on it.”

 

Rantarou chuckled. “That’s even better than I would have hoped for. But what were you doing on a walk at two o’clock? More importantly, what were you thinking about to make you suddenly bump into something?”

 

Kokichi’s eyes sparkled. “I was just thinking about how much I love Amami-chan and Shirogane-chan and Iruma-chan!” He giggled. “Or maybe that was just a lie. Who knows?”

 

“Ouma-kun…” Rantarou started. “You aren’t lying.”

 

“How would you know? What’s your evidence?”

 

“My evidence is that we’ve been friends for over a year now, and I’ve had to deal with your lies for that long, too.”

 

Kokichi stopped, his face falling blank. He looked off to the side almost dismissively. “Oh, right… We  _ have _ been friends for two years now, haven’t we?”

 

Rantarou nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “There’s something about patching someone up after a dumb injury and drinking coffee together under crappy, dim kitchen lights that really changes a person.”

 

“It was not a dumb injury, I almost died.” Kokichi pouted. “I can’t believe my own friend would just dismiss me like that. Do you not care about me?”

 

“If you cry and wake up one of my sisters, I will actually murder you.”

 

“You literally screamed, and none of them woke up.”

 

“True.” 

 

“But you’re right, I was lying. I actually wanted to give you this.” Kokichi took a small box out of his pocket and slid it to him.

 

Rantarou grabbed the box and opened it.

 

Inside was a brown necklace with a white crystal attached to it. A magnetic clasp had been attached to two ends of the string. The crystal was smooth to the touch. Even though it was nothing more than a stone, something close to tears sprang to his eyes from the sheer amount of emotion vested in it. He pushed his tears back for another day.

 

“Did you make this yourself?” Rantarou asked, bringing the necklace to his neck.

 

Kokichi averted his gaze and dropped his voice to a lower, more uncertain volume. “I made the lace and bought the clasp and opal. All I did was string it all together.”

 

“Opal?”

 

“Yeah, birthstone of October or whatever. I saw on this sketchy website that it apparently has strong connotations with loyalty, so…” Kokichi folded his arms behind his head and covered up his panic with a grin. “I thought maybe I should give this useless stone to my good friend Amami-chan!”

 

Rantarou fiddled with the stone with his fingers and gave him a smile he hoped would convey the warmth in his heart. “Thank you, Ouma-kun. I really appreciate it.”

 

“Of course, you do! Any gift from a supreme leader is an honor.”

 

“Sure.”

 

They fell into a comfortable silence, Rantarou humming as Kokichi looked out the window into the darkness of night, pensive. In the distance, an owl hooted. 

 

Kokichi turned to him with an expressionless face. “Hey, Amami-chan, what do you want to do when we get out of this dump?”

 

Rantarou’s eyes widened the slightest bit at the change of mood before relaxing into his usual posture. “It’s not really a dump. I got to meet you guys here, after all.”

 

“Stop avoiding my question with flattery.”

 

Rantarou blinked. He really was serious about this, wasn’t he?

 

“I guess…” Rantarou put his elbow on the table, supporting his head with his palm. He set the towel on the table. “I guess I’m going to be going to college for a geography degree.”

 

“No, I mean after that. What’s your biggest dream?”

  
“Didn’t you ask me that when we first met at that arcade?” Nevertheless, Rantarou looked up in thought. “I kind of want to travel around the world. I’ve already done my fair share of traveling, but it’s a nice thought.”

 

“Who would you go with?”

 

“Honestly?” He laughed. “I would really want to go with you, Shirogane-san, and Iruma-san. If we’ve already gotten into this much shit in two years, imagine how much we could get into while traveling.”

 

Kokichi grinned. “Maybe we could all go on a road trip or something. You know, tour the country before we take over the world.”

 

“Taking over the world… Now,  _ that  _ would be fun.”

 

“It would. But hey, Amami-chan.”

 

“What?”

 

Kokichi’s voice dropped to a whisper, and his smile became as gentle as a feather. “Look how far you’ve come. I’m proud of you.”

 

Rantarou stopped at the sudden gesture. He could vaguely hear Kokichi letting out his usual strange laugh and insisting it was a lie, but he knew better. He had spent his entire life being the one to give that gentle smile, those prideful eyes. Being on the receiving end was more than he could have ever dreamed of.

 

“That’s not a lie, right?”

 

Kokichi shrugged. “Who knows?”

 

“Thought for the record, Ouma-kun…” Rantarou set a hand on Kokichi’s shoulder and gave him the brightest smile he could. “I’m proud of you, too.”

 

Kokichi stopped and stared at him before sticking his tongue out. “Ew! Your stupid feelings are so gross!”

 

Rantarou laughed and moved his hand to the side of his mug. He took another sip of coffee, draining his cup completely. “I know, I know.”

 

“You have to make it up to me right now!” Kokichi demanded with a pout.

 

“How would I do that?”

 

“Go make me more coffee.” He held his mug out to Rantarou.

 

Rantarou took both of their mugs and walked to the coffeepot as Kokichi rambled about one of the advertisements he had seen on the lamppost he ran into.

 

They spent the rest of the early morning talking about nothing, jumping from subject to subject. It would have been a normal scene with any other person, but Rantarou hoped the memory would stay with him forever.

 

“Oh, and before you go,” Rantarou said. He dug into his closet and took out a wrapped box, holding it out to Kokichi. “I was going to give this to you on the last day of school, but I figured I should give it to you now.”

 

Kokichi’s face went blank as he opened the present more carefully than Rantarou would have thought he would. The purple wrapping paper was folded and set to the side. He took one look at the object in the box and buried his face in his hands in a failing effort to hide his grin. “Amami-chan…”

 

Rantarou chuckled and wrapped the object around Kokichi’s neck, fluffing the edges out. “What? It’s just a scarf. I remembered you didn’t like your neck being cold, so I figured I should do something about that.”

 

Kokichi ran his hands along the soft fabric of the black and white checkered scarf, hiding his reddening face under it. He mumbled something under his breath.

 

Rantarou’s smile grew wider. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

 

“... Thanks.”

 

“That’s what friends do for each other, right?” Rantarou finished his sentence with a pat to Kokichi’s head.

 

A genuine smile crept up on Kokichi’s face. “Yeah. Friends.”

 

Despite how much the two thought they knew each other, they could never have guessed that they were thinking of the same quote:  _ “Some people arrive and make such a beautiful impact on your life, you can barely remember what life was like without them.” _

 

Kokichi slapped the thought away while Rantarou embraced it.

 

But when the sun finally rose, they found it was more beautiful than they could ever imagine.

 

*

 

Pillow forts were an essential part of anime binges, especially after writing an essay on something Tsumugi wasn’t passionate about. Even if she was legally considered an adult, the memories of spending days inside a pillow fort while watching her favorite anime would forever imprint pillow forts into her heart. It’s just too bad she had no clue how to make pillow forts strong enough to last for a few hours.

 

Tsumugi stared at her broken creation in shame, hanging her head and setting her CDs on the coffee table. She looked forlornly at the blank television screen before her eye caught the shiny reflection of her phone screen.

 

… Was she seriously about to call over a friend to make a pillow fort when she and the rest of her friends were eighteen years old?

 

Yes. Yes, she was.

 

Tsumugi grabbed her phone and called the best person she could think of.

 

The person on the other end answered almost immediately. “Fuck do you want, Shittygane?”

 

Tsumugi ignored the nickname. “Hey, Iruma-san, can you come over and make a pillow fort with me? It’s just not working. Everything keeps falling apart.”

 

A silence.

 

“Iruma-san?”

 

“I feel like we were in a similar situation before, but whatever. Let me get this straight. You want me, a genius inventor, to use my time to help you make a pillow fort for what I’m going to assume is an anime binge?”

 

Tsumugi bit back a smile at her accurate assumption. “Yes.”

 

“Idiot.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’ll be over in a bit.” She hung up before Tsumugi could react.

 

Tsumugi hummed as she set up the living room for a visitor.

 

Sometime later, someone knocked on the door before bursting her way in without waiting for a response. “What’s up, fucker?”

 

“Welcome, Iruma-san,” Tsumugi said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Can I get anything for an esteemed guest like you that just broke into my house? You could’ve knocked first.”

 

Miu opened her mouth to respond but wrinkled her nose upon seeing the mess of pillows on the blanket Tsumugi had set out earlier. She set the box she had been carrying on the coffee table. “Is that seriously your fort?”

 

“Well, it was.”

 

“You suck.”

 

“I’m aware.”

 

“And you just set one shitty blanket on the floor? That’s gonna be more uncomfortable than sex on a beach,” Miu said, clearing the pillows from the blanket. “You got any more blankets?”

 

Tsumugi nodded and emptied her closet of spare blankets. She let out a laugh at Miu’s widened eyes. “You think you’re dealing with an amateur? I’ve been doing this for years. Today was just a bad day for gravity.”

 

Miu smiled at the laughter but forced her lips back into a frown. “Fine, fine, whatever. You win this round.” She lied the blankets on the wooden floorboards, creating a soft barrier from the ground. “Okay,  _ now _ we can get to the good shit. How do you want this pillow fort to be?”

 

“It should be enough for two people. It would ideally be warm inside but not too warm.” Tsumugi continued to rattle off her wishes as Miu stared at the mess of pillows, occasionally nodding along to what she said and interjecting with questions.

 

“Say no more,” Miu said. She grabbed two of the bigger pillows and balanced them next to each other. “Come over here and keep them steady. I’ve got shit to do.”

 

Tsumugi kept the two pillows steady as Miu built up the rest of the fort.

 

Finally, Miu threw a blanket decorated with hearts on top of the fort, finishing it off with a flourish. She stepped back and dusted her hands off with a victorious smirk on her face. “How’s that for a pillow fort, huh?”

 

Tsumugi stepped back to look at it, her eyes sparkling. “It’s beautiful, Iruma-san. You really are a genius.”

 

“I-It’s no big deal,” Miu muttered, blushing from the praise. She wiped her hands on the skirt of her school uniform and winced upon realizing the oil stains on them were still wet.

 

“It is! It’s so much better than what me or any other person I know could do.”

 

“S-Shut up!”

 

Tsumugi smiled and stepped forward, taking Miu’s hand in her own. “It’s true. You’re my smart, beautiful, interesting, brave, delightful friend.” She bit back another laugh as Miu’s face turned redder with each word.

 

“W-Well…” Miu snapped back to her confident demeanor and pointed a thumb at herself. “What else would you expect from a genius like me? Anyway, I gotta give you something.”

 

Tsumugi tilted her head. Her unsaid question was answered by Miu thrusting the box she had been carrying earlier into her arms.

 

“H-Here, just… just open it.”

 

Tsumugi blinked but opened the box.

 

Inside the box lied a set of thin, white glasses on a cushion. They were the exact shape of her current glasses. Curly grooves had been carved into the temples of the glasses, and it was overwhelmingly clear that extreme care had been taken with it.

 

Tsumugi picked up the glasses by the bridge. “Iruma-san, is this what you asking me for the dimensions of my glasses was for?”

 

“... I guess,” Miu mumbled, looking away. “I tried my best to make it the exact size, so you can just move the lens to the new frame. If you want that, of course. Y-You don’t have to…”

 

“Why would I not?” Tsumugi popped the lens out of her current glasses frame and set them in the frame Miu had made for her. She put on her new glasses and blinked as the image of Miu staring intently at her came into focus.

 

“I-Is everything fine with it?” Miu asked.

 

Tsumugi blinked rapidly, holding back the tears threatening to spill. “How much time did you spend on this?”

 

“Um… two months?”

 

“You spent a lot of time on a gift for someone like me?” Tsumugi grabbed her hand and beamed a brighter smile than the sun. “Thank you. It really means a lot to me.”

 

Miu nodded and looked away, though she didn’t move her hand away. “Are we gonna get this marathon started or what?”

 

“Are you just inviting yourself?”

 

“Hell yeah, I am. You think I did all this work for nothing?”

 

Tsumugi smiled and entered the pillow fort, Miu settling in beside her. Nostalgia clouded her eyes even with the new glasses made for her. “Hey, Iruma-san, remember the first time you came over and had to get me to drag you to that anime con?”

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Miu barked, hiding her face under her hands. “I’m not like that anymore. I would push junior year me down the fucking stairs if I could.”

 

“Oh, right… That was only two years ago.” Tsumugi’s smile softened as memories of the past two years they spent together flashed by. Time really did go by quickly when she was having fun. “You’ve grown so much over these years, though. I can’t wait to see where you go in life.”

 

“Tch… You and your cheesy bullshit,” Miu mumbled, “But you do know that I’m not the only one that went through that development bullshit you’re talking about, right?”

 

Tsumugi stayed silent, allowing Miu to continue

 

“I mean, you went through some shit, too. I’m pretty damn sure you would’ve just sat here watching anime alone instead of doing something productive like, I don’t know, acing your essay or even talking to someone. I’m…” Miu’s face burned bright red as she buried her face in her knees. “I’m glad you have someone to share a hobby with.”

 

Tsumugi held a hand to her heart, her eyes crinkling from the wide smile on her face. “Aw, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said!”

 

Miu snapped her head around to her. “Shut the fuck up, I didn’t say shit!”

 

“You totally did.”

 

“Ugh! I’m leaving!” Miu left the pillow fort and stormed away into the kitchen. A few moments later, she was back with two bags of chips tucked under her arms. She looked away from Tsumugi’s knowing smile. “S-Shut up, Shittygane. Just turn it on.”

 

Tsumugi pointed the remote controller at the television set and clicked it on.

 

It was three in the morning before either of them moved again.

 

Tsumugi’s eyes widened when she remembered the object waiting in the closet. “Oh, wait, I forgot. I wanted to give you this. Follow me.” She stepped out of the pillow fort with Miu following her. She stood on the tips of her toes to reach a box on the top level of the closet and handed it to Miu with a nervous smile. “Here, it’s just… take it.”

 

“Is this a vibrator or something? If it is, I really appreciate it, but I already have—” Miu cut herself off upon seeing the folded, pink fabric inside.

 

“It’s clothes. Do you… Do you want to try it on?”

 

Miu entered the bathroom and shut the door behind her. After changing, she looked at herself in the mirror.

 

The pink fabric turned out to be a sailor uniform with black embellishments tied with a light blue ribbon. The white cuffs were stitched together with red string and led to the black fingerless gloves covering her hands. The black straps on her legs were held together with a gold ring and led down to two knee-length boots. It was clear that Tsumugi had spent much more time on it than most outfits she would have made, and every embellishment was created just for her. Specifically made for  _ her _ .

 

It was one of the best gifts she had ever received.

 

Miu looked over her body and found herself smiling. She folded her school uniform into the box and stepped out with a new confidence. “Hey, Shittygane, did you make this?”

 

Tsumugi turned to her, eyes sparkling at her creation. “Yup! I spent a good chunk of time on it, too.” She hunched over with her hands buried in her lap. “Do… Do you like it?”

 

“Like it? I fucking…” Miu hugged her middle and looked straight into Tsumugi’s eyes with a gentle smile she didn’t know she was capable of. “I love it. Thanks, Shirogane. Wanna go back to watching that shitty show?”

 

Tsumugi stared at her, blinking back tears. Her lips twitched up into a smile, and she nodded.

 

As different as they were from each other, their souls were connected enough to think of the same quote:  _ “The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.” _

 

Miu buried her face in her hands in embarrassment while Tsumugi resisted the temptation to write meta on them.

 

And when the final episode of the anime cut to the closing credits, they knew it was just the beginning of their lives together.

 

*

 

The second Kokichi walked in with a wide, mischievous grin on his face, Tsumugi said, “No.”

 

Kokichi stopped in his tracks before sighing and plopping down in his seat. “I didn’t even say anything yet. How could you be so mean?”

 

“I can just tell by the look on your face. Nothing good ever comes out of that expression.”

 

“Well, I’m saying it anyway.” He leaned in with a sparkle of mischief twinkling in his eyes. “What if we started a food fight in the cafeteria at noon?”

 

“Terrible idea. So many detention slips.”

 

“But it would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

 

“I don’t need anyone ruining my gorgeous face with food,” Miu said, “Besides, food is to be eaten, not wasted on stupid shit like this.”

 

Kokichi turned to her and tilted his head. “Huh. That’s funny. I don’t recall you saying anything about the huge waste of water during the water gun fight.”

 

“Don’t drag me like this.”

 

“Ignoring that, we would still get in huge trouble,” Rantarou said, “I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like being held back from graduating just because of that.”

 

“They won’t know who started it. Are they supposed to hold back the entire grade?”

 

Rantarou stared at him before shrugging and setting his book down. “Whatever, I’m in. It’ll be fun, right?”

 

“Great! Then everyone agrees?” Kokichi looked around before darting off to another group of people, amping them up for the food fight with wide hand gestures and overemphasized words.

 

The three stayed in silence before Rantarou spoke up.

 

“Do you guys think there’s actually gonna be a food fight?”

 

Tsumugi shook her head. “Oh, god no. I don’t think the people at this school are stupid enough to take part in this.”

 

“Should we stop him?”

 

“Eh, let the little shit get in trouble,” Miu said, flipping to the glossary of the textbook in front of her.

 

The three spent the rest of their time before school watching Kokichi run around to every group of people.

 

At around 11:55, people flooded into the cafeteria. They picked up food from the separate food stations the school offered before sitting with their friends, the chatter slowly picking up as more people entered. Soon, the entire cafeteria was flooded. A few people still walked around, buying snacks from vending machines, but the majority of the students had sat down.

 

Miu, Tsumugi, and Rantarou settled into their table in the corner, their morning forgotten and Tsumugi holding out flashcards as they reviewed for an upcoming final. A study guide she had made a few days prior was set out in front of them. Kokichi approached them a few minutes later, his tray loaded with more food than any of the three could eat.

 

Finally, the clock hit noon, and the cafeteria fell silent, everyone exchanging nervous glances.

 

“Are you fucking serious, Cuckma?” Miu whispered through clenched teeth.

 

Kokichi didn’t answer her, instead scanning the area for any signs of movement.

 

Finally, a student with spiky purple hair and a galaxy jacket jumped on top of the table and roared, “Food fight!” He took his chocolate milk and chucked it at the back of someone’s head.

 

The unfortunate person hit was a girl with red eyes and two pigtails held together with red scrunchies. She turned around with blazing eyes and hissed, “Do you want to die?” before reciprocating the attack with the throw of her fork.

 

And that was when the entire cafeteria got rid of any doubts they had and started flinging food at each other.

 

Tsumugi was quick to jump under the table and barricade herself with her backpack. She popped her head out to check the status of the battle but hid under her folder as soon as she saw a spoonful of mashed potatoes coming her way.

 

Rantarou had assumed a similar defensive position, but Tsumugi had taken his original hiding place first. He ducked out of the way of a pizza crust being thrown in his direction and blocked a corn on the cob with his binder.

 

Miu and Kokichi were quick to strike up an alliance, Kokichi guarding both of them with his accordion folder and Miu tossing food in random directions.

 

“Iruma-chan, you have to actually aim at people to hit them,” Kokichi said as he threw back someone’s spoon.

 

“I know that dipshit!” Miu tossed a half-eaten apple into the sea of chaos. “What’s with the defense, Cuntmami? You too much of a pussy to fight with us?”

 

Rantarou frowned as he narrowly avoided a crumpled napkin by a hair. “I really can’t get food on me. Laundry day was yesterday.”

 

“You can’t just do it again?” Tsumugi mumbled. The lack of response from Rantarou was enough of an answer for her. “Damn normie.”

 

“I don’t need your sass at this time of day, Shirogane-san.”

 

Kokichi looked in another direction before the grin was wiped off his face. He scrambled to return to his seat.

 

Rantarou blinked. “Huh? Ouma-kun, what’s going—”

 

“What on Earth is going on?” The headmaster’s voice boomed throughout the cafeteria.

 

The cafeteria fell silent and froze.

 

The headmaster walked into the room, the heels of his shoes clicking on the tiled floor. He took one look at the mashed potatoes splattered against the walls and smashed apples caking the floor and took a deep breath. “Who is responsible for this?”

 

Silence.

 

“If no one is willing to step up, then I guess everyone will be getting detention. Assistants, assign a week’s worth of detention to everyone.”

 

An army of assistants swept the area, handing out pink slips.

 

Kokichi pouted with a pink slip in hand. “The headmaster’s a dirty liar. Everyone would have gotten detention, regardless if anyone stepped up.”

 

“You seem angrier at the lying than the detention,” Rantarou chuckled. He flinched when his hand hit a slimy substance on the back of his neck. “Can someone tell me what I just put my hand in?”

 

Tsumugi leaned over and squinted. “Mashed potatoes. Nothing too bad.”

 

Rantarou took a napkin on the floor and wiped the mashed potatoes off his neck, cringing at the slimy sound.

 

“This is another slip I’m gonna frame,” Miu said. She slipped the sheet of paper into the front pocket of her backpack.

 

“Hey, frame mine, too!” Kokichi said, passing his slip to Miu.

 

Tsumugi gave them both blank stares. “Aren’t you two even a little worried about being in trouble?”

 

The two shrugged as Rantarou passed his own detention slip forward.

 

“Do you have any regrets, Shirogane-chan?” Kokichi asked, tilting his head to the side. The smug smirk on his face told everyone he already had his answer.

 

Tsumugi opened her mouth to reply but found that she had none once again. She passed her detention slip forward with a resigned sigh and smile on her lips.

 

The feeling was shared. It was a day they would never regret in a period of life that would undoubtedly become fuzzier and fuzzier as life went on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skittles: I eat skittles by letting it turn soft first and then chewing. I've never seen anyone else eat it like that but I can't be the only one
> 
> Pillow fort: I used to do this all the time, but all my forts would fall down in like 2 hours max...
> 
> I don't really like this chapter but oh well. The chapter after this one will be the last chapter of this story, but I have a lot more planned for these losers in the future ;)


	8. Tying Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Someday, everything will make perfect sense. So for now, laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears, and keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my irl friend for looking over this chapter! ... that I rewrote twice. it's almost 10,000 words im gonna cry
> 
> Here's the mood of this fic if you want to listen while you read: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zAAXjHKXhNI

Tsumugi’s fixation on being part of the student council was a remnant of her past, something she hoped would be forgotten as the years went by. She didn’t know how she had achieved her position as the president when she wasn’t known by the majority of the student body and was sure there was someone else out there who could lead better than her, but this was her situation, and she had to deal with the consequences.

 

The secretary sat down at the wooden circle table, passing out a stack of papers with their lips pressed into a tight line. They connected their hands together into a single fist and set it down on the table. “So… what would be a good idea?”

 

“You never have good ideas,” the treasurer shot.

 

“You take that back right now.”

 

“Let’s hear the idea first,” Tsumugi said, bringing herself between the secretary and treasurer. It would (hopefully) be the last time she would have to do this, and she couldn’t be happier at the thought. “We can decide if it’s a good one later.”

 

The secretary leaned back in the hard blue chair, content with her answer. “Well, what if we did senior prank this year?”

 

“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble? I mean, the headmaster was pretty pissed over the cafeteria incident,” the vice president asked.

 

The secretary waved him off. “Eh, we’ll be fine if we make up some bullshit about wanting to celebrate the end of our high school years with a memory we won’t forget or something sentimental like that.”

 

“I don’t know… A lot of shit’s happened this year already.”

 

“Why not end that load of shit with another shit?”

 

“Stop talking about shit,” Tsumugi said, “And if we’re going to do senior prank, we have to get permission from the other staff. Remember what happened three years ago?”

 

The student council collectively cringed at the memory. Despite their differences, they could all agree setting glitter bombs off all over the school was a terrible idea that should never be attempted again.

 

“I’m way ahead of you,” the public relations officer said. His eyes stayed glued to the screen of the laptop in front of him. “They said we just have to show them the plan first so they can get ready for the cleanup. Pretty cool guys.”

 

“Who’s going to plan it?” the treasurer asked, pointing a thumb at the secretary. “Because I sure as hell don’t trust that idiot.”

 

The secretary opened their mouth to reply but was beat to it by the vice president.

 

“Maybe we should print out a list of all the names in this grade and draw one out of a hat.”

 

“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” the secretary snorted. “It would be way too messy. Besides, there’s no guarantee that the person drawn would want to do it. How about we just ask around?”

 

“That would draw too much attention, dumbass,” the treasurer said.

 

“It’s not like the school doesn’t already know about it. They’re just biding their time at this point.”

 

“We still can’t have a student overload with guilt and fess up to a teacher. You know how the student body is.”

 

“I think you just have too little trust in our classmates. They’re stupid, but not that stupid. You’re just mad you got snitched on by someone a few months ago.”

 

“Our grades are the highest in the state and one of the highest in the country,” the officer mused.

 

The secretary rolled their eyes. “Grades don’t equal intelligence or common sense. They also don’t measure how long someone’s willing to keep their mouth shut.”

 

“I think there’s actually a mathematical formula for that.” The officer’s fingers clacked against his laptop. “Hold on, I’ll look it up.”

 

The vice president’s eyes fell on Tsumugi. He nudged her with an elbow. “Hey, you’ve been pretty quiet, Tsumugi. What do you think?”

 

Tsumugi paused before turning to them with a smile. “I think I have the perfect person.”

 

*

 

“No, I’m not ‘the perfect person’ to do this! Who do you think I am, Shirogane-chan?”

 

Tsumugi sighed and rubbed her forehead, already feeling a headache coming on. She hadn’t expected him to reject her idea at all, much less so quickly. “Please? We really think you can do it.”

 

While the student council had immediately recognized Kokichi as the person that had messed with their various projects over the years and questioned why Tsumugi would be friends with him, they had trusted her judgement enough to let her recruit the prankster alone. Apparently, they were wrong.

 

Kokichi turned to her with a glare. “Do you know how much this could mess up my record? If I’m not careful, all of us can end up on some kind of list!”

 

“I know, I know. I’m not asking you to take the entire blame.”

 

He stopped, seeming to think about her offer.

 

“Here’s the deal,” Tsumugi continued, “We already know we have the full consent of the custodians, and the other administrators know something’s coming. It was the student council’s idea anyway. The student council, custodians, and administrators will defend you if you get in trouble.” She sighed, gripping her arm with her hand. “But if you feel uncomfortable with it, I understand. I can get someone else to do it.”

 

Kokichi tilted his head and gave her a peculiar look, his eyebrows wrinkled in a way that wasn’t frustrated, nor was angry. His eyes held a cloud of confusion as if he couldn’t fathom why she would add the last few statements to her speech. His gaze roamed over each part of her body like he was a scientist taking note of what was under the microscope, searching for any sign of a lie.

 

“I’ll buy you Panta.”

 

“Deal!” Kokichi grinned and folded his arms behind his head. “And Shirogane-chan, you do realize that I was already planning senior prank wayyy before you came up to me, right?”

 

“What?”

 

“Yup! So really, you didn’t need to do all of that.”

 

Tsumugi gritted her teeth and glowered. “Then what was the point of that?”

 

“For you to buy me Panta, of course.”

 

She had the feeling that wasn’t the sole reason, but she sighed and slumped in her chair anyway. “Okay, then, what’s your plan? It would need to be low-cost and time-efficient.”

 

Kokichi looked down, biting his thumb but not hard enough to break skin. “That’s a problem, isn’t it? Oh well, not a problem big enough to stop me.” He glanced back up with a grin. “My team is gonna be you, me, Amami-chan, and Iruma-chan. So we don’t have to recruit anyone else.”

 

“Are you sure they would want to participate in this?”

 

“Eh, they’re probably cool with it. They’re the most ride-or-die people I’ve ever seen,” Kokichi said, waving her off. “Amami-chan will map out the school and figure out the logistics, Iruma-chan will research which timers to use, you’ll—”

 

“Wait, timers?”

 

“I’m getting to that. You’ll make sure everyone keeps their mouth shut about the prank.”

 

Tsumugi gave him a weird look. “Ouma-kun, we’re in the library. I’m pretty sure everyone in the room heard your plan.”

 

Kokichi matched her expression with a condescending smile. “That’s exactly what I was trying to do. You still have a lot to learn about pranking culture.”

 

“I don’t want to learn about it.” She was lying through her teeth, and she knew it.

 

Kokichi furrowed his eyebrows as if to say _“Did you seriously just try lying to me?”_ but decided not to call her out on it. “Well, you’re going to. You don’t have a choice. Now, let me call Iruma-chan and Amami-chan over here.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted a long string of emojis and exclamation marks to the group chat.

 

Tsumugi slunk back in her seat and sighed. It was going to be a long day, but she couldn’t stop her foot from tapping in anticipation.

 

*

 

The calendar rolled over to a new date as the sun peeked over the horizon at the faintest hint of summer. Four students rolled out of bed, each traveling to the school’s front doors under the cover of the night with their hearts pounding with anticipation. They met at one of the school’s side doors in a circle.

 

“Security cameras deactivated?” Kokichi whispered, hunched over with his arms by his side to prevent himself from being seen.

 

Miu rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to make it so dramatic, you know. All I did was tell one of the technicians to pretend he didn’t see anything.”

 

“You’re ruining the drama, Iruma-chan.”

 

“I know, and I don’t care. Let’s just get going. You got your lockpicking tools?”

 

Tsumugi rolled her eyes as well and plunged a key into the keyholes of the doors before Kokichi could take his lockpicking set out. “I just asked one of the janitors. You don’t have to make this more complicated than it has to be.”

 

“You guys are so boring,” Kokichi said, pouting. Nevertheless, he entered the building with the other three in tow.

 

Rantarou closed the door behind them and unfolded a crumpled sheet of paper dotted with coffee stains. He smoothed it out against the white walls of the school. “Here’s the map of the school you wanted. Who has the timers?”

 

“I do,” Miu said, hauling a giant bag of timers over her shoulder. “Can we just get this shit over with?”

 

“Sure. We should go through the west wing first.”

 

Tsumugi grabbed a few timers out of the bag Miu held and scattered them in the cracks of walls Rantarou had marked on the map in green pen. She turned back. “Hey, Ouma-kun, are you coming with us?”

 

Kokichi held a single finger over the knowing smile dancing on his lips. “Don’t worry about me, Shirogane-chan. I just have something to take care of.”

 

The other three exchanged a confused glance but continued scattering timers over the school. As much as they didn’t trust Kokichi not to do anything stupid, they couldn’t deny they were curious to see what would happen, and there was no point in stopping him anyway.

 

Kokichi rested a hand on his hip and raised his phone to his ear. “Hey, are you here yet?”

 

*

 

“Hey, Iruma-san, Amami-kun. Do either of you have any idea why a car is in the middle of the commons?”

 

The other two shook their heads.

 

The engine of the silver car was still running, buzzing above the chatter of the students gathered around it. A few staff members were lined up next to the open entrance of the school, smiling at the attention their contribution had gotten. A few seconds later, the engine stopped. A man with long, black hair and a mask over the lower part of his face stepped out and greeted the staff members with a nod.

 

“Were other students allowed to do senior prank?” Rantarou asked.

 

Tsumugi shrugged. “Senior prank is usually reserved for the student council, but I’m sure it’s allowed if the staff are okay with it. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

  
Just as she finished her sentence, feet pounded against the floors of the hallway, bringing the students to a silence. An administrator ran into the commons, his face flushed and panting. He stopped to catch his breath before looking up at the students. “Who put a dinosaur in my office?”

 

The chatter only grew louder as a flood of students pushed their way to the administrator’s office. Sure enough, an eight-foot tall green dinosaur was stuffed into the office between a filing cabinet and the desk.

 

A student with light green hair brushed over her eye and black gloves bowed her head. “I apologize for the inconvenience, sir. Would you like me to remove it?”

 

“... You know what? No, it’s fine,” the administrator said, his words followed by a light chuckle. “I might pull a prank of my own on some of the other faculty members with it. Take your picture and run along.”

 

Tsumugi and a couple of the other students took a picture of the administrator shaking hands with the dinosaur before being dragged back to the commons by their friends.

 

“Do any of you have any idea what the fuck is going on?” Miu asked. Despite her words, her lips twitched up into a smile.

 

Rantarou shrugged. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable for two people not affiliated with the student council to do senior prank. Our grade’s pretty weird.” He would have continued had a piercing scream not interrupted him.

 

“Who the hell put these cards everywhere?”

 

The mob of students dashed to the halls, where a group of students were rolling on the floor, holding their sides from the laughter wracking their bodies. The edges of cards littered on the floor hung onto their clothes before being thrown back off.

 

Rantarou bent down and picked up a white business card. “It just says ‘Class of 20XX.’”

 

Two seniors, a large man with glasses and green hair and a woman with her hair braided with a green pinwheel, scattered more cards over the floors before running away, the students’ cheers following them.

 

“I am so confused right now,” Rantarou mumbled. Nevertheless, he bent down to pick up a business card and slid it into his pocket.

 

Tsumugi and Miu picked up a few business cards as well before returning to the commons, where the student driver and a few faculty members were working together to get the car out of the building. The other students had started to dissipate, the excitement from that morning fading as people uploaded their recordings and pictures to various social media.

 

Then the clock hit six-thirty.

 

One hallway blared with sound, prompting the students to run out and the staff to run in, searching for the source of the sound. One minute later, the students from the next hallway were chased out by the sound of ringing timers. Soon, the entire school echoed with alarms. The students ran out of the commons, leaving a scene reminiscent of a ghost town.

 

The only person left was Kokichi, who leaned back against the table and greeted the three with a peace sign and knowing smirk. Then it hit them.

 

“Did… Did _you_ organize all of this?” Tsumugi asked, her voice low.

 

Kokichi only shrugged.

 

Without a word, Rantarou slid four coins into a vending machine and pressed two buttons. He leaned down to pick up the drink and handed it to Kokichi. “Explain.”

 

Kokichi took the drink and popped it open. “It wasn’t really that hard. While Shirogane-chan was telling me about her dumb restrictions, I was looking up who had the most access to tools and wouldn’t be punished by the staff. So essentially, the teacher’s favorites.”

 

“How did you gather that?”

 

“I have my sources.” He paused to take a sip of the drink. “Anyway, I just got their numbers from the school directory and texted them. It wasn’t really that hard.”

 

“Bullshit,” Miu said, “School directories are only accessible to faculty and staff.”

 

Kokichi’s eyes sparkled. “Wow! Someone as dumb as you actually caught my lie?”

 

“Someone as tiny as you can create this much chaos?”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Tsumugi’s lips quirked up into a smile. She held a hand out, unable to stop a swell of pride from rushing to her chest. “Good game, Ouma-kun. The student council commends you.”

 

Kokichi grinned and took the hand with a firm grip. “Good game, Shirogane-chan! You’ll have a very prosperous spot when I take over the world.”

 

They shook hands as the school collapsed around them.

 

*

 

 **GreatestInventor:** holy shit. what the fuck. holy shit. what the fuck. what the fuck. what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

 **Avocado:** youd better have a good reason for sending me this in front of my sisters

 **GreatestInventor:** holy shit what the fuck just fucking happened what the fuck

 **PantaLord:** i dont think shes smart enough to make sense right now

 **GreatInventor:** fuck you

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Would it be better for you to just call us?

_GreatestInventor is calling!_

_Three people joined the call._

 

The first thing three people heard when they tapped on the accept call button was a scream, and they collectively winced.

 

“Iruma-san, you’re gonna have to calm down and tell us what happened,” Rantarou said as soon as the scream faded away. Worry seeped into his voice, and his voice dropped. “Did something bad happen? Do you need to stay over?”

 

Miu’s voice was scratchy from her scream. “N-No, it’s nothing like that. Kind of the opposite, really.”

 

“Care to tell us?”

 

“I got into Hope’s Peak University.”

 

Three figures froze, one cup of tea shattered on the floor, one cup of soda choked on, and one bracelet stretched out too far. A silence followed their sudden noises until Kokichi spoke up again.

 

“Damn, I guess I have to retract my application now.”

 

“Fuck you, I don’t have time for your shit today,” Miu said. Her voice was the rays of sunlight beaming down on them, bright and hopeful and lively. The disbelieving smile was clear even through the phone. “I’m a fucking mechanical engineering major at the top school in the god damn country! I’m on top of the fucking world!”

 

The joy was infected. Soon, three other people found themselves with the same brilliant smile on their face.

 

Tsumugi brushed the pieces of her teacup into a dustpan, her movements so energized her fingers trembled. “Congratulations, Iruma-san! You really deserve it for how hard you work.”

 

“W-What?”

 

Rantarou nodded as he tied his bracelet back into place. “I’m really glad you were chosen, Iruma-san. I can’t believe my sister got accepted into HPU. I’m proud of you.”

 

“Who the fuck said I was your sister?”

 

“He did,” Kokichi snorted. His voice softened, and he wiped the spilled soda off the table with a paper towel. “I’m proud of you, Iruma-chan. I really am.”

 

A sniffle. “Y-You’d better not be lying about that. None of you’d better be lying about anything, you bastards.”

 

“Are we lying or not? Find out next time on—”

 

“Not the time, Ouma-kun,” Tsumugi said. She hissed when one of the glass shards poked her finger. “After I get my finger bandaged up, we can all go out for boba tea on me. That’s your favorite drink, right?”

 

Miu paused, and her voice fell to a whisper. “... It’s all on you? Even the expensive strawberry ones?”

 

“Even the expensive strawberry ones.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Our friend only deserves the best!” Kokichi cut in. “Which you are not.”

 

“Wow, okay.”

 

“Go fish, slut.”

 

“Anyway,” Rantarou said, “Let’s meet up at five at the tea shop next to the park. We should celebrate this.”

 

They could practically visualize the quirk of Tsumugi’s eyebrow over the phone. “Don’t you have a project to do?”

 

“Eh.”

 

Tsumugi let out a disappointed sigh, but she couldn’t stop the hint of a smile from seeping into her voice. “Alright, I guess I can neglect my senior project, too. What do you two say?”

 

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” Kokichi said, pushing the binder meant for his senior project to the side. “How about you, Iruma-chan? Are you gonna grace us with your smelly presence or are you gonna miss your own celebration?”

 

Miu was at a loss for words, her end of the call falling silent before a pile of papers scratched against the phone. “Y-You’re doing this all for me? … Hell yeah! I’m the ultimate inventor, baby! Let’s celebrate me tonight!”

 

“That’s the spirit!”

 

“Can both of you quiet it down a bit?” Tsumugi asked, her voice strained. “You’re yelling in our ears right now.”

 

Her request was followed by Kokichi’s scream.

 

Everyone hung up, cutting off Rantarou and Miu’s laughter.

 

 **SHSLCosplayer:** I hate all of you so much

 **PantaLord:** awwww we love you too!!!

 **GreatestInventor:** so uh does that mean boba is off?

 **SHSLCosplayer:** I’m still buying you boba tea

 **SHSLCosplayer:** The rest of you can get pricked by a sewing needle

 **Avocado:** ouch

 **PantaLord:** oof. I didnt do anything wrong.

_SHSLCosplayer is typing…_

 

Miu giggled at the following essay of insults Tsumugi had typed in the span of two minutes. She held a hand to her racing heart, excitement surging through her body as she read over her acceptance letter again. Her gaze darted between her phone and the letter.

 

This was supposed to be impossible, the one thing she couldn’t invent. But somehow, three people had built the invention of acceptance around her when her back was turned, invisible until it had been such a big part of her life she couldn’t imagine reality without it.

 

Even if she was technically procrastinating on her senior project, there was still one thing she could do.

 

Miu dug a camera out of a cabinet and aimed it down at both the phone and the acceptance letter.

 

And with that, a moment of her life was saved.

 

*

 

 **Avocado:** ;)

 **GreatestInventor:** what the fuck dickmami

 **Avocado:** ;))))

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Are you okay, Amami-kun?

 **Avocado:** call me

 **SHSLCosplayer:** At 2AM?

 **PantaLord:** sure!!!!

_PantaLord is calling!_

_3 people joined the call._

 

“What is so important you had to call us at two in the morning for?” Tsumugi asked, her voice groggy and carrying a hint of irritation. “I woke up for this, you know.”

 

“I got into Hope’s Peak University,” Rantarou said.”

 

“I can’t believe you would—wait, what?”

 

“I got into HPU.”

 

Silence was followed by a scream from Miu. “Dude! Dickmami! Amacunt! Cuckmami! Avocado asshole!”

 

Rantarou’s excitement wasn’t dampened by the nicknames. “I know! We’re going to the same university!”

 

Their screams mixed together until it became an inhuman screech capable of bursting eardrums.

 

As soon as the screams faded, Tsumugi grumbled, “Yeah, I’m happy for both of you, but could you give us a warning before you decide to hurt my ears like that?” Her voice softened. “But I really am happy for you. Congratulations, Amami-kun.”

 

“Nishishi, you’re stuck with the stinky bitch for another four years,” Kokichi said, snickering at Miu’s indignant squawks. He paused. “What does your family think?”

 

“Do you even need to ask? They were ecstatic,” Rantarou said with a bright laugh. Joy radiated from just his voice like the aura around the thriving flowers in the park just before the beginning of summer. He laughed as though there were no worries in the world and for a moment before the real question set in, that was true. “They’re all advocating for it, actually. Turns out it was just…”

 

 _Me_ was left unsaid.

 

“Well,” Miu said, “No matter what happens, you’ve still got a familiar face, right? I’m not leaving for another university any time soon.”

 

Rantarou and Tsumugi winced at Kokichi’s gasp, already knowing his next words. “Wow, Iruma-chan said a sentence that didn’t have curse words? That’s such an accomplishment!”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Are you celebrating with your family?” Tsumugi asked, her voice carrying a not-so-subtle hint of desperation to switch the topic.

 

Rantarou caught the hint and nearly stepped over Tsumugi’s words with his own response. “Yeah, we’re going out to dinner. They told me I could invite my second family too, so be at my house by six at night.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“Be at my house by six tonight.”

 

“We still have our senior projects.”

 

“Bring your camera.”

 

“You want us to get food on our expensive ass cameras?” Miu asked. “No fucking way, Cuckmami. Get a different family.”

 

Tsumugi squinted despite knowing none of the other three could see her. “You literally built your own camera. It wasn’t expensive, and it isn’t even that good. It’s like watching anime on three-hundred-sixty quality.”

 

“Fucking rude. You take that back right now.”

 

“I’ll go,” Kokichi said, “Let’s all celebrate Amami-chan’s escape from this shitty town!”

 

The three laughed and cheered despite Rantarou’s insistence that he liked the town. As they hung up and prepared to travel to his house, Rantarou pulled his camera from his top shelf and set his phone next to the acceptance letter.

 

He didn’t know when he had gotten the courage to send in an application in the first place, much less when he had become qualified to attend classes at his reach school, but he embraced it. It was like a nest of bird eggs on a tree at the faintest edge of summer, a new, hopeful beginning for everyone. After all, one family was great, but two families were even better.

 

With a snap, a moment of his life was saved.

 

*

 

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Hey @everyone!

 **GreatestInventor:** lmao pinging @everyone doesnt work anymore since SOME PEOPLE decided to abuse it

 **GreatestInventor:** and by that i mean me

 **SHSLCosplayer:** If I can’t ping everyone, I’ll ping everyone individually

 **GreatestInventor:** shittygane what the fuck

 **SHSLCosplayer:** @PantaLord @GreatestInventor @Avocado wake up you nerds

 **PantaLord:** lawful evil

 **Avocado:** dude why

 **SHSLCosplayer:** LOOK AT THIS!!!!

_SHSLCosplayer sent a picture._

 

Half of Tsumugi’s face was cut off from the picture, the sheet of paper in her hand being the focus of the photo, but the grin on her face was still brighter than the stars. A familiar red border was printed around the paper. In golden cursive lettering were the words, _“Congratulations! Welcome to Hope’s Peak University!”_

 

 **GreatestInventor:** ASFIHEWOA HOLY SHIT

 **Avocado:** WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE

 **SHSLCosplayer:** You’re both stuck with me for another four years

 **GreatestInventor:** god damn it

 **PantaLord:** lmao iruma-chan’s stuck with two parents for the next four years

 **GreatestInventor:** oh great

 **Avocado:** hey iruma-san do your laundry

 **GreatestInventor:** HOW DID YOU KNOW I NEEDED TO DO THAT

 **Avocado:** no one ever does their damn laundry

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Someone’s salty

 **PantaLord:** hey shirogane-chan

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Yes?

 **PantaLord:** i have something for you

 **SHSLCosplayer:** I’m scared

 **PantaLord:** you should be

_PantaLord sent a picture._

 

A middle finger at the center of the picture, but the image of coupons at fabric stores in the city were still visible. The words “Congratulations, Shirogane-chan/san!” were printed on a sheet of paper laid on top of the coupons in green, pink, and purple.

 

 **GreatestInventor:** OUMA YOU DICK WE WERE SUPPOSED TO SHOW THAT TO HER AT SCHOOL

 **PantaLord:** well maybe she didnt want to draw attention to herself. ever thought about that you ignorant bitch?

 **Avocado:** guys shirogane-san hasnt responded yet

 **SHSLCosplayer:** How did you guys know I got in?

 **PantaLord:** we’re psychics

 **Avocado:** it was just something planned in advance. If you got in, great. If you didnt, we dont have to show you

 **SHSLCosplayer:** You sick, sick sickos of sickness….

 **SHSLCosplayer:** I love you all

 **GreatestInventor:** ok first of all your insults are the stupidest things ive ever seen

 **SHSLCosplayer:** But you still love these plain insults

 **GreatestInventor:** …… maybe so. I love all your stupid asses

 **PantaLord:** gross why would you ever want iruma-chan of all people to love you

 **GreatestInventor:** even your stupid ass cuckma

_PantaLord has signed off._

 

Tsumugi giggled as Miu mocked him in the group chat, only to sign off as well when Rantarou pulled the same thing on her. She texted her goodbyes and signed off. When she turned her phone off, the black screen reflected the brightest smile she had ever seen herself with. She stopped.

 

_I love my smile._

 

The sunny smile stayed on her lips as she grabbed her camera from the closet and set both her phone and her acceptance letter on her desk. She switched the lamp on before pointing her camera down. Her smile was faintly visible on the black screen of her phone as she snapped a picture.

 

With that, a moment of her life was saved.

 

*

 

The four were in the park sitting at a picnic table. The scene, though not in the library like they remembered, was oddly familiar, and the smile on Kokichi’s face was both reassuring and unnerving. Instead of the usual banter and laughter that would be exchanged between them, the four were dead silent.

 

Finally, Kokichi cleared his throat and stood up with four papers in his hands. “So, you may be wondering why I’ve brought you here today.”

 

“Get on with it, Twinkma, I’ve got shit to be doing,” Miu grumbled.

 

“You might want to stick around for this,” Kokichi said. He leaned over the table to pass out the four papers. “Don’t flip it over until I say so.”

 

They flipped it over immediately, revealing the familiar red border and golden words reading, _“Congratulations! Welcome to Hope’s Peak University!”_

 

Silence.

 

Miu let out a strangled screech. “What the fuck? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?”

 

Tsumugi gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She looked back up at Kokichi with glittering eyes. “Ouma-kun… you’re not lying about this, right? You’re really coming with us?”

 

“Nope, the university seal watermark is there and everything,” Rantarou said, his lips stretched out into a wide smile. “Congratulations, Ouma-kun. You really worked hard for this. You’re going to pick this university, right?”

 

“Of course I am. What do you think I am, stupid?” Kokichi pouted. He held the acceptance letter closer to his chest, facing down. “... I don’t want to be alone. I’m not _going_ to be alone. Not anymore.”

 

“You little bitch. Like we could ever leave you alone to fuck up the world by yourself.” Miu paused to sniff and wipe her eyes. “You can’t leave us alone either, you got that?”

 

“Yeah, I—wait, Iruma-chan, are you crying?”

 

“N-No! This is just water!”

 

“I mean, she’s technically not wrong,” Rantarou said. His gaze darted between the three. “So we’re all going to Hope’s Peak University? We’re not leaving each other?”

 

“Of course not, you total normie.” Tsumugi froze when Miu collapsed onto her shoulder, her sobs wetting the fabric of her jacket. Her lips trembled as she wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, come here, you big baby.”

 

Rantarou wiped his eyes with his wrist before joining the hug as well. “It’s okay to cry. They’re happy tears, right?”

 

Kokichi snickered. “No, it’s totally because she doesn’t want two parents hounding her about everything at college.”

 

Miu narrowed her eyes at him before reaching out and pulling him into the hug.

 

Kokichi opened his mouth to complain and move away, but no words would come out. Each person held onto him as if they were afraid he would disappear if they didn’t. The warmth of both their bodies and their emotions was too overwhelming, too much for someone as cold as winter. But as summer edged into his life, he melted in their arms, the ice inside his heart melting into the tears dripping down his cheeks.

 

And even without a camera, a moment of his life was saved.

 

*

 

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Reminder that our senior projects are due tomorrow

 **GreatestInventor:** shit

 **PantaLord:** fuck

 **Avocado:** oh no

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Did all of you morons procrastinate?

 **PantaLord:** nope

 **GreatestInventor:** i see you panicking on your snapchat shut up

 **Avocado:** you guys wanna come over and work on it together?

 **PantaLord:** yeah sure

 **GreatestInventor:** im down

 **GreatestInventor:** hey shittygane you havent talked for a while

 **SHSLCosplayer:** I don’t need to since I didn’t procrastinate like you normies

 **PantaLord:** hey dont throw shade at us

 **SHSLCosplayer:** But yes, I’ll be there. You all need a supervisor

 **GreatestInventor:** great we actually have to behave now. Put the bombs down cuckma

 **PantaLord:** wow just as i pick them up

 **Avocado:** no glitter bombs in my house

 **Avocado:** see you all in a bit

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Remember to bring your binders and divider tabs and page protectors so you can actually do everything

 **GreatestInventor:** … wow i almost forgot

 **PantaLord:** moron

 **PantaLord:** amami-chan open the door me and shirogane-chan are here

 **Avocado:** i can see the fucking glitter bomb ouma-kun. Not again

 **SHSLCosplayer:** … He got rid of it by throwing it at me. Let me in.

 **GreatestInventor:** PFF IM DEAD I SEE YOU GUYS

 **Avocado:** alright you idiots come in i unlocked the door

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Should’ve done that sooner

 **PantaLord:** dont worry i took a picture and im definitely using it for my senior project

 **GreatestInventor:** me too

 **Avocado:** i will too if you would come in already

 **SHSLCosplayer:** Oh, sorry

 

The door swung open, and that was the end of their text series.

 

*

 

Four binders were laid out next to each other: blue, purple, pink, and green.

 

On the front of the blue binder was cursive letters written in dark blue marker reading, _“Tsumugi Shirogane’s Senior Project.”_ The cover was decorated with random patches of fabric, each patch containing a unique pattern. White page dividers were inserted between each stack of papers in the binder.

 

The words _“What did you accomplish in high school?”_ were written and pasted on the first divider. Pages of pages of typed, double-spaced words followed before the picture of three outfits could be seen, one of an adventurer, another of a leader, and the last of an inventor. The picture was only titled _“Gifts,”_ and a list of the materials and time used to create each outfit was shown underneath.

 

Next to the blue binder was the purple binder labeled _“Kokichi Ouma’s Secret Lair”_ in purple glitter gel pen. Yellow warning tape and stickers adorned the cover. Unlike its initial messy appearance, the inside pages were neat and inside clear page protectors. Plastic dividers with shapes cut out of them were stuck between each series of pages.

 

The second divider opened to the question _“How have you grown over these four years?”_ (and the response _“not in height”_ was barely legible underneath). Several pages later, a picture of a stone statue painted in green and brown with a blonde girl in the background was inserted. No explanation or context was given other than the picture being titled _“Shrek Statue.”_ The following picture was of two tired faces, one with glasses and the other with piercings, joined by a purple-haired boy giving the camera a peace sign while the same blonde girl seemed to be rolling on the floor with laughter. The background of prison bars and the bad lighting almost made the picture look edited, but the aura of amusement couldn’t be removed or changed.

 

The pink binder was beside the purple binder. Gray cut-outs of a bunch of gears were pasted to the cover with the title _“The Great Miu Iruma’s Greatest Invention”_ written above it in bold, red sharpie. Tiny pencil marks on the edges of the binder read, _“Wow, so creative,”_ followed by an equally small _“Fuck you.”_ Plastic divider tabs stuck out of the messy pages.

 

Opening to the third tab revealed the question _“What goal have you met?”_ After a few blocks of words, the first photo appeared. The same blonde girl from the purple binder held up a social studies test form with a hand over her grin as she pointed at the 100 circled at the top of the paper. The boy with piercings appeared to be the one taking the picture, his arm cut off from the picture and his other arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulder. Pride shined in both of their eyes, and their smiles were equally as warm. The caption was typed underneath: _“First 100 on a test in my APUSH class.”_

 

The green binder had been placed next to the pink binder. It was labeled _“The Adventures of Rantarou Amami”_ in blocky, green letters cut out from construction paper. An ocean lining at the bottom of the cover and sailboats on top of that lining appeared to be cut out from construction paper as well, though colorful beads resembling the stars dotted the top half of the cover and most likely weren’t made out of paper. The divider tabs protruding from the stack of pages were only visible when the binder cover was lifted.

 

 _“Who have you met?”_ was written on the fourth divider in black marker. Instead of an essay, a single photo was placed into a page protector and inserted right after the divider. The photo showed a tall, green-haired boy standing in the middle of a line of shorter girls, who were assumed to be his siblings. Three other people stood behind the line next to the taller boy, each wearing a different but still bright smile. Warmth and nostalgia surrounded the picture, but the caption tied the image together: _“My family.”_

 

*

 

Miu stood at the top of the staircase, looking down with a flat hand shielding her eyes. “Can’t fucking believe we’re about to graduate now. Remember when we were the ones cleaning this shit up?”

 

“I remember all too clearly,” Kokichi said with a blank face, “It was the summer of 1974. It was a stormy night when the—”

 

“We get it, you’re an acting minor, you like monologues,” Tsumugi said, rolling her eyes. Nevertheless, a smile still made its way to her face as she untwisted the garbage bag of papers. “I kept all my papers from freshman year just for this.”

 

“I’m pretty sure all of us did. If it wasn’t for this tradition, I would probably be holding a bonfire,” Rantarou said, untying his own bag of papers. He took a sheet of paper out and squinted at it. “These are my biology notes. I don’t even remember taking biology.”

 

Kokichi’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward. “Ooh, can we set something on fire after this?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I would trust an elementary schooler with a lighter faster than I would trust you with one.”

 

“Rude, but that’s fair.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Miu said, “The bell’s about to ring.”

 

Just as she finished her sentence, the bell rang four times, signaling the end of their fourth and final year of high school. The seniors cheered as they threw their papers down every staircase they could find.

 

The four emptied their papers down the staircase, letting the stacks fall on the ground with a thump. They watched as stray papers floated to the ground like snowflakes before finally joining the pile at the bottom. Their garbage bags slipped down the stairs with the papers.

 

“Bet you I can slide on this,” Kokichi said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, taking a few steps back.

 

Rantarou’s eyes widened. “Wait, Ouma-kun, no—”

 

But it was too late. Kokichi had already slid down the staircase and lied on top of the paper pile at the bottom. He grinned up at them. “See? No need to be such a fun ruiner—”

 

Miu emptied the last of her papers right on top of Kokichi and snickered as he dug his way out. “Karma, you rat-nosed bitch!” Her smirk was wiped off her face when she saw Kokichi climbing his way back up.

 

“Get back here, Iruma-chan!” Kokichi shouted, laughing.

 

Miu moved to kick him away, but Kokichi had already wrapped his hand around her ankle and dragged her down with him. She screamed as she slid down the papers, though her voice was a whisper under the roars of the other celebrating seniors.

 

Rantarou laughed and took a few steps back. “Watch out, I’m going down!” He slid down the staircase as well, crashing into both Miu and Kokichi at the bottom of the stairs.

 

Tsumugi sighed before walking down the stairs, step by step. When she reached them, she held both of her hands out. They took the hands and pulled themselves up.  “You know you could have just walked like a normal person, right?”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kokichi asked.

 

Just as Tsumugi opened her mouth to reprimand him, the bell rang again, and all the seniors ran out of the school, leaving the papers behind in their wake.

 

Miu turned to the other three with bright eyes and a smirk on her face. “Well? You all ready to finally leave this shit school behind?”

 

Before anyone could answer, one of the juniors shouted at them to leave and threw a paper ball at them.

 

The four grabbed each others’ hands as they ran out of the school and into the city, laughing and dodging the paper balls thrown at them from juniors who had to clean up the mess. They soon caught up with the other seniors, who were throwing crumpled paper balls at each other. It was as if they were children again, their worries reduced to nothing as they pushed each other through the crowd. They may have been children, but they weren’t lost.

 

They met eyes under the sunlight.

 

Not in the slightest bit.

 

*

 

“Graduation is so boooring,” Kokichi groaned, kicking his feet back and forth as they waited for the ceremony to start. The colorful cords on his neck moved with his feet. He sat on top of a desk in the chess club room despite a chair being right next to it.

 

“You can’t act like that at the actual ceremony,” Tsumugi said. She stuck the purple graduation cap on his head, biting her lip to hold back her laughter. Still, a few giggles managed to escape. “Look, it’s the exact same shade as your hair, Ouma-kun.”

 

Miu cackled when Kokichi jumped off the desk. “Kyahaha! The bastard’s too short for the gown!” She continued laughing while Kokichi fumed and crossed his arms.

 

Rantarou entered the room in full uniform, the dark blue gown falling slightly above his feet and tassel hanging next to his head. The cords from his clubs and honors student status were wrapped around his neck and hung off his shoulders. He blinked at their appearances. “We’re supposed to be walking down there in an hour, you guys aren’t dressed yet?”

 

“I am, Amami-chan!” Kokichi folded his arms behind his head and frowned upon seeing the arms fall to his elbows and the end of his gown pool at his feet. He sent a glare to Miu, who had burst into another round of laughter.

 

“Shirogane-san, Iruma-san, get dressed while I fix Ouma-kun’s gown,” Rantarou said, sighing. He scanned the classroom before taking a safety pin out of a cabinet. “It’s too loose because you put it on the wrong way.”

 

“How do you put a gown on the wrong way?” Miu asked. She held three cords in her hand. “And what the fuck do we do with these ropes? Does the headmaster have a bondage kink or something?”

 

Tsumugi dragged her into another room before anyone could answer.

 

A few minutes later, Tsumugi and Miu entered the room again as Rantarou finished fixing Kokichi’s uniform.

 

Kokichi let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the uniform finally fit him perfectly. He beamed at Rantarou. “Thanks, Big Bro Amami-chan!”

 

Rantarou scratched the back of his head and chuckled at the nickname. “No problem, I guess.”

 

“Um… About those nicknames or honorifics or whatever you want to call them,” Tsumugi said. She froze when their gazes landed on her. Her hand gripped the upper half of her arm. “I’ve been thinking about them. You know how some people drop the honorifics if they’re close enough to a person? Do… Do you guys want to try that before we graduate?”

 

“Oh, right,” Rantarou said, staring down at the floor as his smile slipped off his face. “We’re graduating.”

 

The room held a moment of silence as their graduation finally processed. The familiarity of the school would be gone in less than a few hours, and in a few months, they would be in a completely different city. They would only have each other to anchor them to anything familiar.

 

“Well, not like it matters that much,” Miu said. She turned to the side. “We’re friends now, and we’re still gonna be friends after this. It’s not like anything’s gonna change after some stupid, boring ceremony.”

 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, Miu,” Kokichi said. He stopped and tilted his head. “Nah, that sounds weird. How about… Mi-chan?”

 

“My name is already only three letters long, you’re seriously gonna just cut it short like that, Kokichi?” Miu held her breath before releasing it with a sigh. “You’re right, it sounds awkward as hell. How about just Ouma, just Shirogane, and just Amami?”

 

Kokichi hung his head, pouting. “Aw, just as you were getting creative with the nicknames…”

 

“I don’t want to drop the honorifics completely. It’s become something like a nickname to me,” Rantarou said, “Kind of like a marker of our friendship, you know?”

 

“Boo! Save those feelings for graduation, not now.”

 

“Fine, fine.” Rantarou’s gaze settled on each person. “How about… Tsu-san, Mi-san, and Chi-kun?”

 

“That name sounds nothing like my original name, Ran-chan.”

 

“Neither does that.”

 

“I’ll stick with those as well,” Tsumugi said, “Mi-san, Tarou-kun, and Chi-kun… Or should it be Kichi-kun? Your name is so awkward.”

 

Kokichi raised a hand to his heart and gasped dramatically. “Tsu-chan, are you seriously making fun of my name when you have a name like that?”

 

Tsumugi ignored him. “I guess I’ll try both names and see which one sticks.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Should we head to the ceremony now? They’re probably getting everyone in line.”

 

“Sounds fine, Shirogane.” Miu held her stare for a few seconds before looking away. “Yeah, I know it sounds bad, but I can’t think of any other name.”

 

“How about just not changing it?” Rantarou said, “You don’t have to change our names if you don’t want to.”

 

“Finally, a good suggestion from Amacunt.”

 

He sighed but smiled. “I should have known.”

 

Kokichi clapped him on the back. “Cheer up, Ran-chan. Let’s just head to the ceremony now. This is getting boring.”

 

“The ceremony’s gonna be even more boring, dumbass,” Miu snorted.

 

“I know that, you stupid whore.”

 

“Fucking cuntbag.”

 

“Cocksucking motherfucker.”

 

“Shitty asshole.”

 

“Bitchy blonde boner-killer.”

 

“Nice alliteration, but we need to get going,” Tsumugi said. She opened the door and looked behind her with a smile. “Coming?”

 

The other three muttered variations agreement before following her to the gym, where they were separated by alphabetical order.

 

Rantarou looked behind him in line, only to see Miu being scolded for cursing out a student, Kokichi being scolded for almost pulling the fire alarm, and Tsumugi scolding someone else for who knows what. _It’s only been five minutes…_

 

“Amami! Face ahead,” a teacher snapped.

 

Rantarou blinked and turned forward. He bit back a smile as three stares burned into his back.

 

The gym was separated into two sections, one for the students and one for the parents (He smiled and waved at thirteen green heads of hair in the back, though he noted no other head was familiar). A table was set on the stage with a stack of diplomas. A podium was erected on the left side of the stage with a microphone connected to it. The valedictorian and salutatorian sat in a row of chairs onstage with a few staff members. A huge screen was set up on the side of the stage to a slideshow of pictures taken by the photography club.

 

Finally, the music started, signaling the students to begin walking in.

 

Rantarou found himself seated somewhere near the middle of the second row with Miu two rows behind him. Kokichi sat in the very middle of the crowd while Tsumugi was seated somewhere near the back. He turned around, only to be met with a middle finger, a stuck out tongue, and a wave. He faced the stage before a teacher could scold him again.

 

Tsumugi struggled to see above the sea of heads, but she could faintly make out the image of Kokichi winking at her and Miu giving her a thumbs down. She smiled as they were scolded again.

 

Kokichi sat in his seat with a pout and crossed his arms, kicking the seat in front of him. He grinned when the person in front of him turned around with a scowl.

 

Miu slid down her seat and stuck her leg out in an attempt to catch Rantarou’s attention but was caught by a teacher before she was able to do so. She retracted her leg sheepishly and settled for leaning back in her chair.

 

Finally, the music stopped, and the headmaster adjusted the microphone attached to the podium. “Good afternoon, students, friends, and family.” He greeted the audience and explained graduation procedures before stepping away.

 

The valedictorian strolled to the podium with a stack of papers in her hands. “Welcome, fellow classmates and loved ones. Now, I know what you’re thinking. As important as graduation is, I bet half of you are falling asleep right now.” She waited until the chuckles died down to hold up the stack of papers. “That’s why instead of reciting some boring speech off paper, I’ll make it up right now!” She tore the papers in half as the audience cheered.

 

 _Liar. She totally just memorized the speech,_ Kokichi thought, rolling his eyes. Upon glancing at the other students, it was clear that they had come to the same conclusion.

 

“Throughout the years, we’ve experienced countless all-nighters, stress-fueled exams, drama, heartbreak, and so much more. We’ve truly become like a family.”

 

Tsumugi fought to keep her laughter back, but a few giggles escaped upon hearing Miu’s soft laughter. _I’ve never seen half of these people in my life._

 

The valedictorian ended her speech after a few minutes of speaking and handed the microphone to an administrator, who recited another speech.

 

The microphone was passed from person to person for what seemed like centuries before the headmaster took the microphone back and started calling names. The first row stood up to stand in line for their diplomas. The projector onstage went through a slideshow of pictures and names of students.

 

After the first row was addressed, the second row stood in line.

 

“Rantarou Amami, honors student.”

 

Despite instructions to stay quiet until the end of the ceremony, sixteen people cheered and hollered as Rantarou held his palm up for a high five. The headmaster blinked in surprise but high-fived him and handed him his diploma. Rantarou turned to the audience and fought to keep his eyes open under the onslaught of flashes before leaving.

 

Another row passed until Miu stood in line.

 

“Miu Iruma, honors student.”

 

Another round of applause accompanied Miu’s walk onstage, where she shook the headmaster’s hand and took her diploma. She turned to the audience for a picture and flipped her hair before leaving. The clicks of her heels faded with each step, though the middle finger by her side was noticeable by everyone in the audience.

 

The cycle repeated for a few more rows.

 

“Kokichi Ouma, honors student.”

 

Kokichi skipped onstage as a series of air horns went off. He shook the headmaster’s hand and took his diploma before posing dramatically and blowing a kiss at the audience, earning a few chuckles. He skipped offstage as another air horn went off.

 

Finally, the last few rows were called up.

 

“Tsumugi Shirogane, honors student.”

 

A thunderous round of applause followed Tsumugi as she walked onstage. She shook the headmaster’s hand and took her diploma. She winced at the number of cords on her neck weighing down on her but managed to face the audience with a smile before walking offstage.

 

After a few more rows, every student was awarded a diploma.

 

The headmaster smiled at the crowd of students. “Students, please rise and move your tassels to the left.”

 

The sea of students stood up, hands trembling as they moved their tassels in silence. A few seconds later, a flock of graduation caps were thrown in the air and down again as applause and cheers shook the gym.

 

Then the ceremony was over. They were no longer students; they were graduates.

 

Students laughed and scrambled to find their caps as parents flooded the area.

 

“Here’s your cap, Kichi-kun,” Tsumugi said, handing the cap to him.

 

Kokichi planted the cap back on his head with a grin. He almost seemed to glow at the nickname. “Thanks, Tsu-chan! Where’s everyone else?”

 

“Right here, dumbass.” Miu walked into view, fixing her hair before putting her cap on her head again. She wrinkled her nose at the tassel, but her eyes glittered as she looked around. “Anyway, where’s Dickmami?”

 

“You really can’t see that garden over there? Your eyesight’s as bad as your attitude,” Kokichi said, pointing to a crowd of green.

 

The buzz of chatter grew louder as the crowd of green stampeded over to them.

 

The tallest made his way to the front and greeted them with a smile. Even with his relaxed posture, his smile was so radiant it could shine through the darkest nights. “Hey, we finally graduated from this garbage place.”

 

“No way, it’s totally not a garbage place!” Kokichi whined, tears springing to his eyes. “I loved this school so much!”

 

“Another lie, right?”

 

Kokichi dropped the facade immediately. “Yeah. It’s kind of underwhelming. I wasted over a hundred thousand hours on a piece of paper and a handshake. I could’ve been doing so much more with my time.”

 

“Like what, making more Shrek statues?” Miu snorted.

 

Rantarou spoke before Kokichi could respond. “My mom took a bunch of pictures of us. Do you wanna see?”

 

The other three crowded around him and peered over his shoulder.

 

The first few pictures were of them walking past in their gowns right before they took a seat. Pictures of each of them turning to the audience while they received their diplomas flooded the album. Some miscellaneous pictures were taken as well, like when Miu had turned around to give Kokichi the finger and another where Tsumugi was in the middle of retrieving her phone from under her gown, revealing that she had sewn pockets into her graduation gown. The following pictures were shoots of Rantarou in a series of random moments.

 

“... Tsu-san, I really can’t believe you sewed pockets into your gown,” Rantarou said.

 

“Can you blame me?” Tsumugi grumbled. “This ceremony was more boring than all filler episodes combined. I should have just skipped the ceremony and chose to have the diploma delivered.”

 

Miu scoffed. “The cap wasn’t even worth it. The tassel’s the most annoying shit ever.”

 

“Then why are you still wearing it?”

 

She shrugged.

 

“That doesn’t matter,” Kokichi said. He leaned in with his eyes sparkling. “You guys wanna do some real damage to this town before we leave it for good?”

 

Miu twisted his cap, bringing the tassel directly in front of him. “Is that even a question?”

 

“It shouldn’t be,” Tsumugi said, looking off to the side. “We’ve been through too much in this town to just leave it without looking back at it. Nostalgia, I guess.”

 

“I suppose taking a walk around town would bring some closure,” Rantarou mused.

 

Tsumugi furrowed her eyebrows. “But weren’t you going to spend post-graduation with your family?”

 

Rantarou’s mother gently pushed her way through the crowd with a warm smile. She regarded each one of them with such pride she could be mistaken as their mother. “He can go with you. You’re all family now, after all.”

 

Or maybe not so mistaken.

 

All four of the graduates froze before three of them turned to stare at Rantarou.

 

“Mom, you weren’t supposed to tell them that,” Rantarou stage-whispered.

 

His mother giggled. “Oh, I wasn’t? Oops.”

 

“Aww, looks like Ran-chan was betrayed by Mommy Amami,” Kokichi cooed.

 

“Top ten anime betrayals,” Tsumugi said, “I can’t believe you were betrayed by your own mom.”

 

The others laughed as Rantarou groaned, a strained smile creeping to his face. “Why are you guys like this?”

 

“Well, are you coming with us or not?” Kokichi asked.

 

Rantarou’s eyes flickered back to his sisters, only to be pushed forward. He chuckled and tugged Kokichi’s cap over his eyes. “Of course. What are we gonna do about our diplomas though?”

 

“Here, I’ll keep them,” Rantarou’s mother said, taking their diplomas and stacking them on top of each other. “Tsumugi, you can give me your cords. They look like they’re going to break your neck.”

 

Tsumugi fidgeted with the ends of her cords. “Are you sure that’s okay? I don’t want to keep your hands full of anything.”

 

“It’s fine, I want you to go have fun.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Oh, for fu—freak’s sake.” Miu snatched the cords from hers and Tsumugi’s necks and handed them to Rantarou’s mother. “Thanks, Mom.”

 

Kokichi snickered as Rantarou sighed and rubbed his forehead. He took his cords off and stacked them on top of Tsumugi and Miu’s cords. “Thanks, Mom!”

 

Rantarou’s mother giggled and waved them away. “Go have fun with your friends, Rantarou! Call me if you need me.”

 

That was all the affirmation they needed. The four linked hands, pushing their way through the crowd of families until they finally reached outside, where cars honked at each other and graduates poured into the streets.

 

“Who the fuck feels like being run over today?” Miu asked. She grabbed all three of their raised hands and shoved them down. “No, you don’t. Anyway, where the hell are we going first?”

 

Tsumugi scanned the area, her gaze drifting from store to store. “We did a lot of things in this town. Let’s just walk through the streets and take a look around. Is that okay with everyone?”

 

Kokichi adjusted his cap with a determined gleam in his eyes. “Let’s wreak havoc on this town.”

 

“That’s fine with me,” Rantarou said, shrugging. He straightened his posture. “We can do it together.”

 

“Hell yeah!” Miu cheered, slamming her fist against her palm. “Let’s go fuck some shit up!”

 

And so they fixed their caps and gowns before strolling down the streets with their chests puffed out in pride, ready to face memory lane. They had no reason to fear it.

 

They laughed and pointed out the bakery where Kokichi almost sunk them all into debt, the mall where Tsumugi had only barely dodged having a fistfight over a missing button, the junkyard Miu had dragged them all to with the excuse of finding a missing part for a recent machine, and the museum where Rantarou had gotten into a heated debate with a staff member over the history of extraterritorial rights.

 

They marveled at the alleyway where Miu showed them her first invention, the center where Kokichi had finally earned his chess grandmaster title, the restaurant Rantarou had held his longest job, and the recreation center where Tsumugi taught sewing classes.

 

Their memories were followed with arguments and fights, but they had survived that.

 

They had _survived_.

 

But the ending of their high school years wasn’t the ending they had fought so hard to achieve, the future they didn’t know they craved, the reason they fought every aspect of themselves to grow. No, it wasn’t even close.

 

It was only the beginning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mathematical formula: yes, there's actually a formula for how long a conspiracy can be kept under wraps. I'm not sure what it is but it's out there I think
> 
> "You sick, sick sickos of sickness": this was a line I wrote in one of my earliest, shittiest fics. pastel and I were going through our old fics and I found this golden line and I knew I had to use it again no matter what. I'm sorry
> 
> Glitter bombs: glitter never gets out. I still see glitter on my friends even though i know for a fact we haven't touched a tube of glitter since like a decade ago
> 
> Graduation: it's boring. i went to my cousin's graduation and it was a pretty small class, but it still took hours. 
> 
> Cords: I think we get cords whenever we get enough volunteer hours from a club at my school, but I'm still not sure how they work
> 
> Speech tearing: this happened at my brother's friend's graduation and everyone was like 99% sure the valedictorian just memorized the speech, which is honestly dedication
> 
> finally... this fic is done. this behemoth novel is completed, but their story isn't. Thank you all for making it this far and being patient and sharing your stories with me. Here's some legendary stories we've gathered:
> 
> 1\. EfoxKitty's cheating tales from grammar school involving 16 people getting caught cheating  
> 2\. Amami Da Playboi's story of printing memes on shirts to cheat  
> 3\. Literally all of Marukyuu's stories, who somehow experienced something from almost every chapter  
> 4\. QwertysHuman's horrifying reassurance that a hole in the floor is just a really good rockstop for cellos  
> 5\. Pastelbandana's class sneaking food every day but the guard just not giving a shit  
> 6\. 4Monadonis2 eating skittles cereal with grape Sunkist  
> 7\. Literally everyone who commented with their stories and thoughts
> 
> It's so bittersweet to see this ending, but I'm glad I'm able to move onto the next installment, which will take uh... (looks at piling responsibilities)... some time. I'm also planning a series of loosely tied one-shots of "missing scenes" from this fic, for lack of a better term. Thank you all for reading and making it this far. I hope to see you in the next installment.

**Author's Note:**

> I would just like to end this by saying don't cheat in school. seriously. i know i glorify it here, but dont do it. this fic was literally created so i could get the urge to cheat out of my system. Teachers aren't stupid. in real life, all four of these losers wouldve gotten suspended or worse. so dont cheat.
> 
> 7:10 AM: so yeah my school actually starts at 7:10. my friends held a pseudo-survey once and apparently that was the earliest time. on the plus side we get out at 2:10 PM so
> 
> Commons: basically where all the students gather in the morning before school officially starts. usually the cafeteria
> 
> Mile run: students run a mile in a certain amount of time. it's hell if youre not athletic. Actually, a lot of people used to cheat and just tell the coaches that they ran the full mile when they didn't bc they knew the coach wasn't paying attention to them... don't try that at home kids
> 
> Please let me know if you have any questions!


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